Hall Duty
by mchicken
Summary: Steve is pressed into duty to help solve a mystery at Mike and Jeannies' Alma Mater.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: This is my first multi-chapter story, so please feel free to read and offer constructive criticism. As the story progresses, it important to look at some of the events and behaviors with the way-back machine set in 1972 or there abouts, not through the current climate of pervasive cel phone and internet immediacy and sensational press coverage. As always, the characters do not belong to me but are merely used for the enjoyment of the writer, and hopefully the reader. **_

**Hall Duty – Prologue**

The girls at Mission High School were all atwitter. Mission High, set on the edge of Dolores Park, was the oldest high school in the state of California, and had a building and a staff to match, but when the students came back from the Christmas Holidays, old Mrs. Holtzbaur was finally gone. Not only did she teach history, she was history, a relic – old, stooped and forgetful. She definitely knew her stuff, _most days_, but she really didn't connect with her students anymore. Her absence was all a bit mysterious, however. Rumors swirled about her departure, she was just fed up, had a nervous breakdown, had a stroke, some even said her mangled body was found in the school! The administration was quick to dispel all the rumors, but they offered no alternative explanation. She was gone without a trace. For a couple days now, a parade of substitute teachers had covered her current events (Yeah, that was a joke) classes, with no explanation.

Today, the new permanent teacher was starting and the young ladies couldn't be happier about the development. As he walked from the parking lot, to the office, to his classroom, a ripple of excited conversation swept the hall. The new teacher was hot! There was no other word to describe him. Young, probably not even thirty, slim and handsome, with longish wavy hair, snappy modern clothes and dreamy green eyes that melted the heart. He had a smile that lit up the hall and the teenage imagination. And better yet, no trace of a wedding ring! He was ever so different than the old and conservative staff that led most of their classes. And his car, a Porsche no less! It was a fantasy come true. Even the female staff members (young and old, single and not) were buzzing. Things were definitely looking up.

Conversely, the air of excitement did not carry over to the male population of Mission High. The arrival of a new teacher was met with, curiosity, indifference and in some cases open disdain. "Who the hell does he think he is?" sneered Marc Walen to no one in particular. His sentiment was picked up by the rest of the basketball team, who were congregating on the main staircase. "And who cares about a used Porsche?" Tall, blonde, handsome and rich, he was the self-anointed BMOC and captain of the basketball team. Marc had the best clothes, best car, prettiest girlfriend, and lots of admirers and friends. Used to being the center of the female attention storm, all the chatter about the handsome, stylish new teacher by the girls of Mission high, including his girlfriend Melony, was getting on his nerves. It was only third period, but he had already had quite enough of the newest staff member, Mr. Steven Keller!

**About two weeks earlier…**

It was the day after Christmas. Mike Stone had come into the office uncharacteristically late, around 10 am. He hung up his coat and hat and made a pot of coffee. The office was deserted, and he was glad. Although the holidays usually produced their share of mayhem, this year's holiday season had been, up to this point, mercifully murder free. Dan and Norm would be coming in later, but he enjoyed the quite time to collect his thoughts and clear his desk. Even the phones had seemed to have taken the day off. He was glad that the men could have some additional time with their families and he had managed to give Steve a few well deserved days off to go skiing in Tahoe.

As Mike busied himself with paperwork his mind drifted to the previous day. Jeannie was home from school and he shared a delightful day with her and Steve. Mike and Jeannie had gone to early mass and exchanged presents. They then went to a late Christmas brunch at Steve's apartment. "This looks and smells great, who knew you could cook, buddy boy!" he commented as they tucked into omelets, potatoes and fresh fruit.

"Mike, I've been on my own since I was 18, and I haven't starved yet," Steve responded in a huff. "I do know my way around the kitchen."

"Well, you wouldn't know it by looking at you, skin and bones!" chided Mike with a grin.

"Oh Mike, would you give it a rest?" Jeannie's chimed in as she winked at Steve, "I think he looks great just the way he is!" Steve blushed at her comment and jumped up to refresh everyone's coffee.

To change the subject, Steve asked Jeannie to share her plans for her winter break. He knew she was dying to talk about her work at Mission High School.

"Well," she began, "You know Mike and I both graduated from Mission and he is on the Alumni Committee. The building is old, in fact, it was already old when Mike graduated. So you can imagine the state it is in now." The _old_ comment bought Jeannie a smile from Steve and a glare and playful swat from Mike.

Dodging Mike, Jeannie continued, "It is badly in need of renovations and a seismic retrofit. Sadly, the school will be closed for a number of years, and the students will attend Polytechnic High school in the interim. In the process, some of the original ornamentation has to be removed and one of the three murals painted as part of the NRA works projects during the depression will be lost. It's a beautiful old building, but the safety of the students comes first. Because I'm majoring in architecture, the committee asked me (at Mike's, suggestion) to help document and catalogue the original structure, before demolition begins in the summer. I will be working with the building engineers and one of the schools Art teachers, Diane Bader, who is an art historian and a photographer. It really is a great field experience opportunity."

Mike beamed with pride at his daughter's newfound expertise and her involvement in the project, which was close to his heart. Although the school was originally scheduled to be closed and the building slated for destruction, the alumni committee had worked hard to save it, and convinced the city to renovate the building instead.

Steve was fascinated with the details of the project, never having realized the historic significance of the building. He was also pleased to see Jeannie so excited about the project. "I wish I was going to be around, to get a backstage look at the old place," he said, "but the boss over there has finally given me a few days off, and Tahoe beckons!"

Jeannie smiled, but was a little disappointed that Steve was going to be scarce for the next week, because as excited as she was about working in the school, she would have loved his company. She had to admit, the old building was a little creepy when empty for the holidays. It had lots of dark corners and hidden secrets. The walls seemed to murmur with the echoed voices of thousands of previous students, almost as if the building was a living thing.

After helping clean up from breakfast, Mike and Jeannie wished Steve safe travels and spent a lazy Christmas evening parked in front of the TV.

Mikes was roused from his recollection, by the sound of a ringing telephone.

"Homicide, Stone," he barked into the telephone.

"Mike, we have a problem." An agitated male voice sputtered on the other end of the line.

_**Author's Note: Mission High School is real and did undergo a major retrofit, beginning in 1972. The school opened in 1896 and the current building was completed in 1927. It is still open and the building's tower is a landmark in San Francisco at 3750 18**__**th**__** Street adjacent to Dolores Park. All the rest of the events are the product of an over active imagination.**_


	2. Chapter 2

"Kirby, calm down, what's the problem?" Mike responded with concern.

Kirby Pence was an old friend and classmate of Mike Stone's and the current principal of Mission High. He had been instrumental in the drive to keep the school open and cared deeply about the school and the students. Portly, bald and distinguished, Kirby embodied the delicate blend of compassion, humor and backbone that made for a very good principal. He ran a tight ship for the most part, or as tight as was possible in the current climate of free love, protests, racial and gang strife and drugs. Usually professional and composed, his uncharacteristic panic sent up a red flag in Mike's mind.

"Mike, I don't know what to do, I think something has happened to Mona Holtzbaur!" stammered Mr. Pence.

"What would make you think that?" Mike responded.

"I got a call from Diane Bader this morning. You remember her, she is the art teacher that Jeannie will be working with. When Diane first came here right out of college 10 years ago, Mona kind of took Dianne under her wing and despite their difference in age, they became great friends. Diane relit Mona's teaching fervor, and Diane benefited from Mona's 30 years of experience. Come to think of it, they kind of remind me a lot of you and that young fellow you work with now, what's his name, Stan or something, right.

"Steve." Mike smiled to himself, thinking about how lucky he was that Steve had come into his life and how maybe May/December friendships were not as uncommon as he thought.

"Well, Diane has been trying to get a hold of Mona for a few days, she likes to keep tabs on her, because Mona never married and doesn't have any family. She wasn't too concerned, Mona likes to go off sometimes, but when she came in to water the plants in her classroom today, she noticed the lights were on in Mona's classroom. When she poked her head in to say hello, Mona wasn't there. Not only that, her tote and lunch box were parked in front of the door, Diane tripped over them as she went in. It was if she never left on the 21st of December when we dismissed for the holiday. And Mike…" Kirby paused ominously, "there was a note on the plan book on Mona's desk."

Mike was now truly concerned. "What did the note say, Kirby"

"In bold letters was written: NEVER AGAIN"

Mike had a thousand questions, but his first two were, "Are you at the school now and did you call the police?"

"Yes I am and, ah Mike, what do you think I am doing right now?" Kirby retorted.

"Kirby, don't be an ass, you know what I mean, I'm in homicide, you really need to get ahold of missing persons, and get the crime lab team down there."

"Mike there's the problem. The school board is just looking for reasons to back out of the deal we made to retrofit the school and keep it opened. If they get wind of the fact that one of our teachers went missing _from the school, _you can imagine what they will do. And really, the note might just be a hoax. Mona is a little forgetful and could have left her things that way, you know she has done that before. She did rub a lot of students and staff the wrong way, she is quite old fashion and a stickler for the rules. I think she even had a go round with the janitorial staff about keeping her room just so. Plus, there was a lot going on in school the last day, we had the big basketball game and the school was crawling with people until 11 pm. Someone might have seen the light on and seen her things laying in the doorway and thought it was an opportunity for some creative mayhem. It really could just be a prank, and Mona is off somewhere. Whatever this situation is, it needs to be handled very discreetly."

There was a hesitant silence on the line.

Mike was horrified at Kirby's attitude. "Do you honestly believe it's a prank, Kirby?"

"I honestly hope so Mike, but I just don't know." Kirby replied.

"You know I don't like to play at politics, and I understand the position you are in, but what about MONA'S SAFETY? Don't you think that should be your first priority?" Mike replied with rising agitation in his voice.

"Of course, of course you are right," Kirby replied sheepishly, "But Mike, I can't have a whole flock of black and whites, and crime scene vans parked around the place. That will bring the press and this will be splashed all over the front page of _the Chronicle." _Kirby shuddered at the thought of that_. "_Parents won't want to send their kids back to school if they feel it's unsafe. Please Mike, I'm begging you, is there a way we can handle this without jeopardizing the future of the school?!"

Mike was torn. He deeply love Mission High and knew in his heart that this could spell the end for his old school, but this was a question of public safety and the safety of great old gal. He took a moment to ponder the best course of action to find Mona and keep the investigation as low key as possible. "Ok Kirby, let me contact missing persons and see what we can do to keep this as quiet as possible. Fortunately, I have nothing pressing, so if it's ok with Missing Persons, and the Captain, I'll head over to take a look, but I'm not making any promises. Our first priority has to be finding Mona, agreed?"

"Agreed." Kirby replied. "You must think I'm a total heel, Mike, but you have no idea the pressure the school board is putting on us."

Mike wasn't quite ready to let him off the hook for his callous disregard for the safety of one of his staff members, but he kept that out of his voice. "Two more things Kirby, don't let anybody in Mona's room and if Diane is with you now, please keep her in the office until I get there."

A soon as Mike got off the phone, he dialed Scott Russell in the Missing Persons Unit. The phone rang and rang, but no one picked up. Mike stood up and stretched. Even though his plate was fairly empty right now, this did not fall into his area of responsibility. Looking into this on his own would be against department policy, and he really didn't want to step on the toes of another department. Scott in Missing Persons was a stand-up guy and a very good detective in his own right; if anybody could track Mona down it would be Inspector Russell. Plus, he really didn't want to handle this kind of political hot potato. There was just no good way to deal with this situation. If it was a prank and the investigation became public, it could do tremendous harm to the reputation of the school. But what if Mona was truly in trouble? Mona was one of Jeannie's favorite teachers, not only from class but in her position as advisor to the school newspaper on which Jeannie worked. From the stories Jeannie had shared with Mike over the years, it wouldn't be out of character for Mona to be forgetful or to take off for a few days.

Mike sat back down mulled over his next step.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Thank you for your kind reviews, it really helps me to keep going with the story. I'd like to apologize in advance for the continuing character development and exposition, hopefully you won't get too bored with the appetizers before we get to the main course of the story. It really is necessary to set the stage for upcoming events. MBC**_

Diane Bader paced in the outer main office of Mission High while Kirby talked to his friend Mike Stone on the phone. Usually tall, almost 6 foot, slim with long, wavy red hair, she was not pretty in a conventional way, particularly dressed in her customary off-work uniform of paint spattered overalls and a long sleeve t-shirt, but Diane's inner passion for life, art and her students made her striking none the less. She had a fire that drew students to her and she truly helped them to find their creative spirit. She strained to hear bits of the phone conversation, but it did not reassure her. Mr. Pence was not handling the situation particularly well. From what she could hear, she feared he was downplaying the whole situation.

Diane continued to wear a track in the office carpet. She was truly worried about her friend and mentor Mona Holtzbaur. Mona had befriended Diane not long after she had come to Mission right out of Berkeley 10 years earlier. While not a likely friendship, it had grown over the years to feel almost like family. Mona was truly Diane's best friend and although she sometimes felt smothered under the motherly attention that Mona provided, she endured it, because she knew in her heart that it was based in love and respect. She smiled when she thought that it had all started because Mona's classroom was across the hall from hers.

Her affection for her mentor and friend did not mean that Mona didn't infuriate Diane on a regular basis. Mona was sometimes fussy and old fashioned, particularly when it came to education. She demanded and grudgingly received complete compliance from her students. She was stickler for the rules and the right way to do things. While a few of the kids learned to respect and appreciate her keen intellect and acerbic wit, she would never win any popularity contests with the 70's teenager. There was a large segment of the school population who mistook Mona's forgetfulness and outer appearance as a sign of her advancing years and declining mind. They soon found out, however, that was a big mistake.

Mona frowned on Diane's modern collegial relationship with her classes and her constant mantra to Diane was, "Remember, never smile at them before Christmas and never, ever try to be their friend." This was the one piece of advice Diane chose to ignore. Even though their educational theory was wildly different, they had grown to respect each other's ability to inspire students. Mona also disapproved of Diane's casual dalliances with the opposite sex. She believed that there was a strict moral code a school teacher should live by. Diane chose to disregard that bit of advice as well.

Then there was Mona's fierce independent streak. She regularly refused Diane's help and even hid illness and injury from her, despite her advancing years. It was not out of the ordinary for Mona to take off for Vegas without telling anyone for a weekend of poker. Other times she would go to LA or San Diego to see a weekend series with her beloved San Francisco Giants. She read the _New York Time, The Chronicle_ and _The Washington Po_st every single day and was always in the middle of 2 or 3 books. She enjoyed history and a good murder mystery. Mona loved to play cards, drink scotch and most importantly, live life on her own terms.

While her disappearance may not have been out of character, there was something nagging at Diane. It was true that Mona had gotten distracted and left her things in odd places before and even with the mysterious note, it was not unheard of for students to pull stupid pranks, but this felt different. She could not dispel the dread that was building, as much as she tried to convince herself it would turn out ok. She didn't know how she would continue if Mona was gone from her life and the more she thoughts about it the more upset she became.

Diane was roused from her inner dialogue when Mr. Pence ended his phone conversation and came back into the outer office.

ooooooooooooooooo

Dan and Norm's appearance in the bull pen caught Mike's attention as he continued to contemplate his next course of action. He could not believe it was already past noon, and got up to refresh his coffee. They exchange greetings and chatted about their Christmas holiday before Mike excused himself and returned to his office to try Scott Russell's number for a second time. The phone range before he could dial.

"Stone," he answered. Mike smiled when he heard Jeannie's voice on line.

"Hey, Mike, if you're not too busy, how about you meet your favorite daughter for lunch?"

"Oh Sweetheart, I'd love to, but I need to follow up on something." He said with real disappointment in his voice. "But I tell you what, if I can wrap up what I'm working on, I will take you out for an early dinner."

"That would be great, I wanted to make it an early night anyhow because I start over at Mission with Diane tomorrow."

Jeannie's response stopped Mike in his tracks. Depending on how the rest of his day went, he did not know how wise it would be for Jeannie to begin her winter project. He also thought about how devastated Jeannie would be if something had happened to Mona. After a long pause, he finally answered, "It's a date. I'll call you as soon as I'm done. Love you, Sweetheart."

"Love you too, Daddy." she answered. Mike's long hesitation nagged at Jeannie as she hung up phone. I wonder what that was all about, she asked herself.

oooooooooooooo

Well, third time's a charm, Mike thought to himself as he dialed the phone. After three rings he was rewarded with a curt, "Russell, Missing Persons."

"Scott, Mike Stone here, do you have a few minutes."

"Sure Mike, what's up?" Inspector Russell replied.

Mike spent the next 15 minutes relating the details of his phone call from Kirby Pence. Mike had every intention of deferring to Scott for their next move, as Inspector Russell was the departments expert on missing person cases.

Scott stayed silent on the other end until Mike ran down of the facts as he understood them. After a brief pause, he laid out his thoughts for how they should proceed.

"Well Mike, it sounds like we don't truly know if she is missing or not, although I have to admit, the note makes me suspicious. I understand the principal's concerns about publicity, unfortunately that runs counter intuitive to the way we would normally proceed. Publicity is usually our best weapon in tracking down missing persons. If after a preliminary investigation, we really feel there is something going on, we have to go public."

"I agree 100%"

Scott paused, thought further and then proceeded, "If you can clear it with Captain Olsen, l would really like you in on this one, if you can spare the time. Since you are on the alumni committee and around the school on a regular basis, your presence there won't cause any red flags. I think the first thing we need to do is head over to the school and talk to the teacher who found the personal items and the note. From what you said, she is a good friend of the missing woman. She should be able to give us a lot of the background we need. Is she still at the school?"

Mike indicate that she was, and Scott continued, "We also need to get the lab team over there to process the classroom and the note. Since school is out for the holidays, it shouldn't be too hard to get the lab boys in and out with minimal fuss. Because so many people use the building, I don't think that it will yield any results, but you never know. We need to get someone over to Miss Holtzbaur's home to check it out as well and we also need to speak to her neighbors."

"Sounds like a good plan, Scott," Mike replied. "Since Steve is away and murder seems to have taken a well-deserved holiday, I will get with Rudy and see if we are good to go. And thanks, I appreciate your help with this, it's really import to me."

"No problem Mike, I can be down at the school in about a half hour, give me ring if that's going to be an issue."

Mike hung up the phone, picked up his coat and hat, and headed down to Rudy Olsen's office. Rudy was amenable to Mike's involvement in the investigation, but only if nothing else pressing came up. Mike thanked Rudy and headed down to Mission High.

ooooooooooooooo

Mike pulled his tan LTD up next to main entrance to Mission High just as Scott Russell was getting out of his car.

"Scott," Mike greeted the Inspector with a shake of the hand, "Thanks again for jumping right on this."

"No sweat Mike, let's just hope there is nothing to it."

"Your lips to God's ears. How do you want to play this Scott?"

"Mike, since you are familiar with the principal and the situation, I like you to do most of talking. Do you know the teacher who is missing and the witness?"

"I've met Miss Holtzbaur a number time over the years, and she was one of Jeannie's favorite teachers, but I only know Miss Bader by reputation."

"Well, I still think because of your connection to the school, they will be more comfortable if you take the lead. I will just look and listen, then we will see where we stand."

The two inspectors entered the School and proceeded to the main office, which was located directly under the tower, just to the left of the front door.

"I've never been in here before, this is quite the building," Inspector Russell commented.

"It truly is, and we've only just saved it from the wrecking ball," Mike replied as they entered the main office.

Kirby Pence was having a quiet disagreement with a flustered-looking young, red-headed woman. He jumped up at the sight of Mike and his companion. "Mike, thanks for getting down here so quickly! We really want to get this cleared up as soon as possible. I'd like to introduce you to Diane Bader, Diane this is Mike Stone and..."

The Inspector put out his hand and interjected, "Inspector Scott Russell, Missing Persons, I wish we could be meeting under better circumstances."

Pence frowned at the officer but shook his hand anyway.

"Mike, I thought just you were coming down, I didn't think we needed to involve anyone else."

"Kirby, I believe I said we needed to involve missing persons and would do what we needed to do to make sure Miss Holtzbaur was safe, Russell here is the best."

Inspector Russell blushed slightly at the comment, for a compliment from Mike Stone was high praise indeed.

Mike continued, "Now we are not going to assume anything just yet, and rest assured we are taking this very seriously, but Kirby here's the deal, if after we do some digging, we feel that Mona is really in trouble, we HAVE to go public with this, no matter the consequences to the school. Do you understand me?"

Diane, who was still agitated from her conversation with Pence, seemed to breathe a little easier at Mike's words.

Kirby shook his head sadly, "Yes, I suppose we must, but only if …"

With Kirby's last statement, Diane had had enough, and shouted, "MR. PENCE! DO YOU CARE MORE ABOUT THIS BUILDING THAN MONA?"


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Well my muse had other ideas about taking a few days off, so here are a few more breadcrumbs to follow. MBC**_

Diane flinched as Mr. Pence tried to put his hands on her shoulders. Tears were moistening the corner of her eyes as she swatted his hands away and continued her rant, albeit in a more controlled voice.

"I'm sorry I shouted Kirby, but you have done nothing but try to downplay this since I called you. It really makes me question your priorities. I don't care what it looks like, I know something is wrong!"

At this point, Mike stepped in to try and reassure the young woman and offered her his ever-at-the-ready pristine white handkerchief. While he secretly agreed with her attitude, he needed Diane to calm down. Pence again tried to comfort Diane, but backed off at a glare from Mike.

"Listen, Miss Bader - Diane," Mike said in a sympathetic tone, "We are going to do everything we can to find Mona, but we need your help. I know you two are friends, and I understand that you are concerned, but getting upset won't help Mona one bit. And if you're too upset to remember things clearly, well, that could actually hurt our chances of locating her."

Diane accepted the handkerchief and looked Mike in the eye. Seeing understanding and concern there, she replied, "I'm sorry, I am just worried about Mona. I really want to do everything I can to help find her."

Although Mike really needed to interview Diane, he could easily see that she was not up for questions just yet. With a look to Inspector Russell he suggested, "How about we take a look at Mona's classroom first, and then we can get some more information." Russell nodded his agreement, and with that, they left the office and silently walked down the hall, towards the center of the school. Miss Holtzbaur's class room was about fifty yards down the main hallway.

"As you recall, Mike," Mr. Pence said mostly to fill the awkward silence, "all the history classrooms are here on the right hand side of the A hallway. The art rooms are on the left and if you continue down, you hit the central lobby, off of which are the gymnasium, cafeteria and the halls and stairs to the rest of the building."

"Has anybody been in the room since you found Mona's things?" Mike inquired.

"As far as I know, no. There are only a few janitors in building, today." replied Pence. "Tomorrow will be another story, however. The building engineer and of course Jeannie and Diane will be in to start documenting the building. I believe in the morning that both the girls and boys basketball teams have practice, as well as the wrestling and swim team. The school never really sleeps for too long."

Mike hung back slightly, and seeing this, Scott did the same. "If we are going to find anything in here it's going to have to be today," Mike started in a low voice. "After we take a quick look see around the room, and bag the note, why don't you see if you can get the lab boys down here to at least dust for prints. We probably should do a room by room search of the building as well, it probably won't lead to anything, I don't think Mona's hiding in a broom closet, but you can never tell what we'll turn up."

"That sounds good, Mike." Inspector Russell replied, "If it's ok with you, I want to talk to Pence and Bader separately. Why don't you take the girl, you seem to have made a connection with her." Mike was beginning to see why Inspector Russell was held in such high regard, for he was about to suggest the same thing.

Mike agreed and continued Scott's thought, "When you talk to Pence, try to get a feel for what was going on in the building the evening of the 21st, the last day Mona was seen. Make sure he lets you see Mona's Disciple Referral File, too. While I hope no students are involved, you can't discount that possibility. It will at least give us a place to start. Also, he said something to me about an encounter with one of the janitors. See if you can get any more info on that. Hopefully, by then the lab boys will be here and you can stick around until they finish."

Scott smiled to himself. So much for me taking the lead in this investigation he thought, although truth be told, Mike's plan was more or less what he would have done. He made a mental list of his next steps as Mike went on. "After I'm done interviewing Miss Bader, I'll get Mona's home address and maybe Diane can come with me. If she knows Mona as well as I think she does, she'd be the best person to see if anything is amiss." Mike glanced at his watch, it was already half past one. "It will probably be too late to get the lab out there if we need to, but we'll see what happens. Let's meet up back at my office later and we can compare notes."

Miss Bader and Mr. Pence had arrived at classroom A112 and waited for Mike and Scott to catch up. Mr. Pence took out his master key and opened Ms. Holtzbaur's classroom door. Mike made a note to get Diane's and Kirby's fingerprints for exclusionary purposes. Just in front of the open door where two bags. One was a small lunch box, the other was a large tote. The tote was on its side and a number of small parcels, papers and what looked to be Christmas cards were spilled on the floor. Mike turned to Diane and asked, "Was the door locked when you came in and is this exactly how the bags were?"

She replied, "No, the door was open and the light were on. That's why I came in, I thought Mona was in here getting some work done. On the 21st before we left on holiday, she said she had something to show me, but I never got the chance to see what it was. I had to get right out of here to catch a flight to Phoenix to see my folks, so I just wished her a Happy Holiday and left. I felt a little guilty, leaving her alone for Christmas, but she insisted that I go. Diane started to get little misty eyed again, but she continued, "I only got back early this morning and decided to come over and check on my plants before I went home. The bags were right here, but the tote was upright. I tripped over it when I came in, that's when all the stuff dropped out. I walked over to the desk to see if Mona's handbag was in the bottom drawer, and that's when I saw the note and went to the office."

Inspector Russell investigated the bags on the floor while Mike walked over to the desk. In the middle of an impeccably neat desk was Mona's Plan book. It was opened to the week of January 2nd. Small, precise hand writing filled the blocks for each class period of the day, for the entire week. Scrawled across both pages in large block letters were the word "NEVER AGAIN" just as Kirby had reported. Nothing else was disturbed as Mike looked around the tidy, plainly adorned room. A newspaper rack graced one corner with current and past editions of various national newspapers. There was a large bookshelf with 3 inch binders neatly labeled with years going back to the 1940's. Only two bulletin boards were decorated, one titled "this week" and the other titled "the week that was." While it looked as if newspaper articles had been stapled to the boards at one time, they currently were blank. Mike called Diane's attention to the bulletin boards and asked if there were usually news items on the boards.

"That's odd," she commented, I'm sure there was something up there when I was in here on Friday."

After a few minutes, Inspector Russell walked over to Mike and looked at the plan book. He glanced around the room, but other than the blank bulletin boards, saw nothing out of place. Quietly, he told Mike, "It appears as if the bags have been here at least a couple of days. The lunch box has half a sandwich that's at least a few days old, and the bag had about 20 unopened Christmas Cards and a few Christmas parcels, mostly cookies and fruit that also smell as if they have seen better days. At first glance, it looks like they could have been here since 21st, the last day anyone saw Mona."

Everyone looked up as a middle aged man in a navy blue workman's uniform entered the room. "He raised his voice when he saw Mike and Scott at Mona's desk and shouted, "Hey, you don't belong in here." He then turned to his left and saw Mr Pence and breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's you." he said and continued under his breath, "Good thing too, if the old bat knew anybody was in here, she'd have my hide."

Mr. Pence ignored the mumbled comment and introduce Clark Fischer, the newest of the 5 custodians who worked at Mission High. "Sorry Clark, I should have told you that we were in the building, I didn't mean to give you a scare."

That's ok, Mr Pence," Clark said with a smirk, "It's your school, after all. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, no, thanks just the same we are almost done here." Mr. Pence, said dismissing the janitor.

That drew a glare from Mike, who wanted to use the opportunity to get more information about the condition of the room on the 21st. As Clark exited the room, Mike followed him into the hall and stopped him. "Mr. Fischer, hold on a second, can you tell me if you cleaned this room on Friday the 21st?"

Fischer turned towards Mike. "Who's asking?" he responded defiantly.

Mike identified himself, and asked his question again.

Fisher responded more casually, "I usually do, but I was working in the B wing on Friday because there were people using this hall to get to the gym for the basketball game. We left A hall for the night crew." Mike made a mental note to interview the night janitorial crew. "I went home before they came on at 11pm. Why the questions, lieutenant?"

Mike hesitated, "We are just looking into something that happened in Miss Holtzbaur's classroom on Friday. Nothing to get alarmed about." He really didn't know why he wasn't totally truthful in his response to Fischer, but something about him seemed off.

"Anything else, lieutenant?" Fischer asked turning to leave.

"No, that's it, thank you Mr. Fischer."

As Fischer walked towards the gym, Inspector Russell, Mr. Pence and Diane Bader exited the classroom.

"Mike, I'm going to head back down to the main office with Mr. Pence." Scott stated as Mr. Pence locked A112. "Miss Bader, if you wouldn't mind talking to Lieutenant Stone?"

"Sure," she said, obviously happy to be leaving Mr. Pence's company. "How about we use my room?" pulling the key out of her overall pocket.

Mike followed her into A111 and took a seat on a stool at one of the drafting tables. Diane had visibly relaxed when she entered her own classroom. For some reason, she felt strangely at ease in the company of the older lieutenant. She sat down heavily on the other side of the table, smile and rolled her eye at Mike. "Kirby Pence is a good principal but he can be a pain in the ass." She said candidly as she returned Mike's handkerchief. "Sometimes he cares more about politics then about the kids and his people." Mike was slightly surprised at the young woman's forthright comment, but took it as a sign that she was comfortable and composed enough to talk to him.

For the next hour, Diane and Mike talked about Mona, and the weeks leading up to her disappearance. She gave him a list of the hotels that Mona frequented in Las Vegas and Reno. As she talked, Mike was touched by the level of affection that she demonstrated towards her older friend and colleague and after their conversation, he was more convinced than ever that something had happened to Mona, despite the lack of evidence at the school. She agreed to accompany him to Mona's house, and produced a key to the front door. They made their way back to the office; checked in with Inspector Scott, who was buried in a stack of files; and left the building.

They decide to walk to Mona's house, which was just 2 blocks down, at 20 Cumberland Street. As they walked through Dolores Park in the chilly afternoon sunshine, Mike could not shake the feeling that he had met this young woman before. Despite her unease at Mona's disappearance, her easy smile and considerate nature seemed all too familiar to him. "You are Jeannie's dad aren't you?" she asked as she reached Mona's House. When they stepped on the porch, the sight of numerous papers and an overflowing mail box gave Diane pause. "Oh, man, this does not look good," she said handing Mike the front door key. As he put the key in the door and slowly turned the knob, there was a loud crash from inside the house.


	5. Chapter 5

Mike told Diane to stay on the porch as he rested his hand on his .38. He slowly open the door and was greeted by a loud yowl and flying orange fur.

"Allie Kat!" Diane yelled as an orange tabby cat shot out of the door and onto the porch. Mike breathed a sigh of relief and smiled to himself while he watched Diane attempted to corner the skittish cat under the porch swing. By the time Mike had made a quick check of the house, Diane had corralled the cat and was standing on the porch gently stroking the frightened feline. He motioned to Diane and she entered the house and closed the door. Mike gave her a quizzical look, "She's called Allie Kat?"

Diane rolled her eyes, nodded her head and responded, "Yeah, it's a dumb name, but that's where Mona found her so…" With that she went to the kitchen, filled Allie's empty food and water bowls, and finally release the cat. Mike followed her into the kitchen.

Allie pounced on the bowl as Mike queried Diane. "Who normally takes care of the cat when Mona's out of town?"

"Well I do, but Mona knew I was going to be away. She sometimes asked the kids next door, but they can be a bit unreliable. When she had to ask them, she usually left out extra food and let the faucet drip into a bowl in the sink, just in case. Mike checked the sink, and indeed there was a small saucer partially filled by a gently dripping faucet.

With Allie fed and watered, they checked the first floor and found nothing out of place, save for 3 binders laying open on the dining room table, dated 1932, 1942 and 1952. Several newspaper articles in sleeves had been removed and some notes were written on a yellow legal tablet, in the same precise handwriting that had been in the plan book. Diane mentioned that Mona used the binders to plan lessons and bulletin boards for her classroom. Mike assumed they had come from the bookshelf of similar binders in room A112. There was no trace of Mona's pocketbook or coat.

They checked the upstairs bedrooms and again everything was as it should be, beds neatly made and trash can and laundry hamper empty. Diane opened the closet in the spare bedroom and there was a large open shelf. She called Mike's attention to the open area, "That is where Mona normally keeps her overnight bag." she said as she nervously ran her hand through her hair, now doubting her instinct. Returning to the kitchen, Mike asked about the newspapers and the mail, but Diane again indicated that she would have normally taken care of it, but that if she couldn't, the neighbors did.

The last thing Mike checked was the fridge. Most of the food seemed fresh, aside from some aging Chinese takeout and a small chicken and quart of milk that were clearly past their prime. From his observation, Mona did not seem to be the kind of housekeeper that would leave food spoil in the fridge. The spoiled food, the hungry cat and the piled papers seemed to indicate that Mona was missing, but then there was the missing overnight bag. Still, his gut told him that something was off. Clearly, he needed to talk to the neighbors to ask about the cat and the mail. Unsure of Mona's status, Diane scooped up Allie Kat and grabbed the box of cat food and departed the house. Mike locked the front door and asked her to wait while he went next door. If the neighbors were home, and Mona had talk to them, it would quickly clear up the mystery. If not, then they would definitely have to ramp up the investigation. Mike pounded on the door to no avail, so he decided to walk Diane back to school.

As they walked through the park, the sun was beginning to slip down in the winter sky. Mike was running scenarios through his head as Diane paced silently next to him, lost in her on thought. There just seemed to be too many contradictions in the scant evidence trail to determine if Mona was missing or just a forgetful older lady off for the holiday. He definitely needed to speak to the neighbors, and check in with Scott Russell, before he went any further.

They reached the school just as the lab boys where coming out the main door. Scott Russell had been called away, but he left word that he would meet Mike back at Bryant Street. Mike gave Diane his card and asked her to call if she had any word from Mona. Seeing that she was still very worried, he promised to do everything he could to find her friend and call her with any progress. She headed back to her room grabbed her bag and left for the parking lot. Mike watched her depart as Mr. Pence came out the main entrance and secured the front door. They talked briefly and Mike headed back to the office.

oooooooooooo

It was well after five o'clock by the time he entered the bullpen. He nodded to Norm and Dan, who were both on the phone, and hung up his coat and hat. It had been a long afternoon and as he grabbed a cup of coffee, his stomach growled and he realized he hadn't eaten any lunch. Lunch – dinner, Jeannie! He had forgotten all about his dinner plans with Jeannie. He went back to his desk, set down his coffee and dialed home. Surprisingly there was no answer. He waited a few minutes and dialed again. As he listed to the phone ring, Scott Russell poked his head in the office door, "Good time, Mike?" Mike motioned Scott to the seat in front of his desk and he gave up on the phone call.

Mike started first, "So, Scott, honestly, what do you think?"

"Before I answer that, what did you fine at the house?" Inspector Russell replied.

Mike recounted his visit to Mona's house and Scott took a minute to think. "I don't know Mike, while I know we always need to be aggressive in our investigation when someone goes missing, I don't really have a feel for this one. The search of the school turned up nothing. When I talked to Pence, he really did seem to think she had just gone off," Mike started to interrupt, but Scott continued, "I know, I know, he has political reasons for keeping this quite, but with what I saw and what you saw at the house, there is no way to tell. According to him, there were a lot of people in the building on Friday night, so it's hard to believe something happened to her without anybody seeing it. I think what we need to do is talk to the neighbors first, then call the hotels that Diane gave you. I also want to interview the night janitorial staff. According to the principal, they are working days the rest of the week, so we can get with them tomorrow. I can also get in touch with my contacts in Reno and Vegas to see if they can turn up anything. I guess it wouldn't hurt to call the hospitals in town and call Bernie in the morgue. With all that I read in the discipline files, it would not surprise me if someone had it in for her, but until we have more concrete evidence of a crime, all we have is suspects, a suspicious note, some spoiled food, a pile of newspapers and a hungry cat."

"Well, when you put it that way," Mike was not happy with Scott's take on the situation, but he was the expert. The gut feelings of a best friend, and his own misgivings really didn't carry a lot of weight in the investigation.

"Scott, why don't you give me what you turned up in the discipline files so I can take a look at it. You swing by the neighbor's house on your way home and see if anyone's there. And make sure you let me know if you get a hold of them. I will call the hotels, hospital and morgue before I call it a night and we can regroup in the morning. At that point we can talk to the lab guys and see if they turned up anything at the school and see then if we should send them out to her house. If we still don't have anything, you can call your contacts in Reno and Vegas."

Scott put the files on Mike's desk and left the office as Mike pulled out his phone directory. It really didn't seem like they were doing enough to Mike, but it was the best he could do for Mona at the moment. He was suddenly distracted by the heavenly scent of pizza and anchovies. Mike looked up and was rewarded with the smiling face of Jeannie Stone, bearing a pizza box and a couple of sodas.

"Hiya, Mike!" she said as she dropped the pizza on his desk and gave her dad a kiss on the cheek.

"Sweetheart, you are a sight for sore eyes, and an empty stomach!" He said giving her a hug. "How did you know I wasn't going to turn up for dinner?"

"Really, Mike?" she retorted, "How long have I been a cop's daughter?"

He put his hand up in mock surrender as she opened the box and handed him a slice of pizza. She opened the sodas and grabbed a slice as she sat down on the side of the desk. "So what's so important that you stand up a dinner date with your daughter?"

Mike was unsure of how much he want to share with Jeannie. He thought a minute and decided that maybe her input could shine some light on Mona's behavior. It also occurred to him that, as he would be in and out of the school building working on the case, and Diane was involved, there was no way in hell he would be able to keep it from her. Jeannie jumped on his hesitation and began, "Mike, that's the second time today you've hesitated before you answered my question. Fess up, what's going on?"

Mike described the panicked phone call from Mr. Pence and his trip to the school with Inspector Russell. He told her about the note and what they found at Mona's house. He usually wasn't so forthcoming with case details during active investigations, but he really didn't see the point of holding anything back. He knew Jeannie would be discreet and at any rate, Diane would probably tell her everything tomorrow anyway. He actually secretly hoped he could get Jeannie to hold off going to work at the school for a day or two until they could figure out what happened to Mona.

Jeannie was duly concerned at the disappearance of Miss Holtzbaur. "Gee, that's awful!" she commented after Mike's story. "Do you really think something's happened to her?"

"I honestly don't know." he answered. "If you look at the evidence, it really doesn't lead to any conclusions, but if you ask me for my gut feeling, yeah, I'm very concerned. And Jeannie, if something did happen at the school, it makes me very uncomfortable for you to be working there when there aren't a lot of people around."

Jeannie could see where this was leading and she cut in before Mike could say another word. "Listen Mike, I love Miss Holtzbaur to death, but you know as well as I do how flaky she can be at times! Don't even think about me not starting the project tomorrow. I'm sure you'll find her safe and sound and Diane and I will be safe at the school."

Mike considered a rebuttal, but knew he wouldn't get anywhere when his daughter had already made up her mind. He did decide, however, to make sure he had someone in the building when his daughter was there, whether she liked it or not.

Mike and Jeannie finished their dinner in silence. After Jeannie left, he made his phone calls, without much success. Being the day after Christmas, most of his calls went directly to answering machines or to skeleton crew workers. On the positive side, he was relieved to hear that no bodies matching Mona Holtzbaur's description had turned up at the morgue. He hadn't heard back from Inspector Russell and since he didn't even know the surname of the next-door neighbors, there was not much more that he could do. As much as he hated to give up for the night, he was at a dead end. At 8:00 he gather up his fedora and coat and left the office for home.

ooooooooooooo

Mike was having his coffee and checking the basketball scores in the paper when Jeannie came into the kitchen. She got a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. They were both surprised by a knock on the door. Mike looked at Jeannie and asked, "Are you expecting anybody this early?"

Jeannie shrugged her shoulders in reply and got up to answer the door. "Steve!" was all Mike heard before he got up and went into the living room.

Standing by the door stood Steve Keller, Mike's partner and friend, looking a little worse for the wear. He looked rumpled, road weary and was sporting a spectacular black eye. "I was hoping I could get a cup of coffee?" he said to Jeannie, as she ushered him into the kitchen.

Steve moved rather stiffly and suppressed a groan as he dropped heavily onto the kitchen chair. Jeannie got him a cup of coffee, which he accepted with a smile. To Jeannie's surprise Mike had yet to say one word to Steve. They sat in strained silence drinking coffee, until Mike finally spoke. "Do I want to know what happened? You weren't supposed to be back till Saturday?"

"Steve didn't meet Mike's eyes, just responded, "probably not." as he continued to drink his coffee.

Mike wasn't going to let it drop there. A thousand questions ran through his mind, but he settled on just one (although he knew what his partner's response would be), "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just bruised and tired."

Mike seemed to mull this over as he formulated one more questions, "Just tell me one thing buddy boy, was it a girl or was it a tree?"

Jeannie stifled a giggle and blushed as Mike and Steve both glared in her direction. With a laugh in her voice she said, "Um, I have to get ready to go over to Mission, let me know, uh, if you need a referee." With a laugh, left the room.

While she was upstairs she caught dribs and drabs of what undoubtedly was a VERY entertaining story. She knew it must be interesting by the periodic sounds of Mike's raised voice. Eventually she would find out what happened, but right now discretion was the better part of valor. When she came back into the kitchen, Mike was a bit red in the face and Steve, although he looked slightly more alert, appeared to now be suffering from a bruised ego as well as a black eye. She winked at Steve as she kissed Mike on the cheek and quickly left the room with a terse, "Bye, see you tonight."

Mike barely got out a severe, "Be careful!" before she slammed the front door and was gone.

ooooooooo

Steve got up and refilled his and Mike's coffee and settled back at the table. "Mike," he started, "Why such a stern warning to be careful?" Steve knew Mike was very protective of Jeannie, but his words as she left sounded a little more strident than normal.

Mike recounted the events of the past day and the progress, or lack thereof, of the investigation with Inspector Russell. Steve didn't know what to make of it. On the surface, it didn't look like more than a case of someone going off on their own without telling anyone. (Something that he could totally understand) On the other hand, if Mike's famous _spider sense_, was tingling, well who was he to argue.

"Look Mike, if it would make you feel any better, let me get a few hours' sleep and I will head over and keep an eye on Jeannie. I still have a few days off and she said on Christmas that she wouldn't mind giving me a backstage tour. I promise I won't tell her that you thought she needed a babysitter. Hopefully, that will free you up to track down Mona today without worrying about Jeannie. What do you think?"

Mike was touched by Steve's concern, but still wasn't ready to let him off the hook for his escapade in Tahoe.

"What are you trying do, atone for you latest misadventure?"

Steve gave Mike a smirk and said, "Well maybe something like that."

Mike smiled and ruffle Steve's hair, "Thanks, buddy boy. I owe you one, now go get some sleep."

_**A/N: I apologies in advance if I stole the cat bit from anybody, consider it an homage. Also, a wink to the guiding forces of the SOSF group, you know where it is in the chapter. Congratulations on your third anniversary and thanks for your encouragement!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Thanks again for the nice reviews. I'm no expert on missing person's cases in the 1970's, but according to my research, the procedure is reasonably accurate. **_

Jeannie got to Mission high about 7:30. She was surprised when she got there that the parking lot was almost half full. As she entered the building she saw a number of students walking down the hall toward the central lobby. She entered the main office to sign in and was greeted by Bri Molen, the principal's secretary. Bri was a friendly, middle-aged woman with medium grey shoulder length hair. Jovial and well-liked by the students and staff, she had been at Mission for many years. Everyone knew that principals may come and go, but it was really Mrs. Molen who ran the school.

"Hello Mrs. Molen, nice to see you again!" Jeannie said enthusiastically.

"Well Jeannie Stone, welcome back, we've been expecting you," she said warmly.

"I'm surprised to see you here, I thought you were on holiday." Jeannie answered.

"Oh no, not me, no rest for the wicked," she said with a smile in her voice, "I always have to come in to cover the office when the school is open for practice," she motioned to the students dribbling in the main door.

"I was wondering what was going on, I had forgotten that the winter sports teams practice over the break." Jeannie replied. "I'm here to meet Diane Bader and the building engineer to start the documentation."

"Righty oh. Diane's already here, you can go down to her room. Do you remember where it is?"

Jeannie indicated that she did and bid Mrs. Molen a cheerful goodbye. She headed down the main hallway to Diane's room. It felt odd to be back at her old high school. Everything seemed smaller and older and with just the off-hours lights on, a little bit creepy. Even though she hadn't been in college long, it was like the building didn't recognize her anymore, almost like she was an invader. A shiver went down her spine as she reached A111. She shook it off and entered the classroom.

Diane was at her desk with a drawing tablet. She seemed to be engrossed in what she working on and didn't hear Jeannie walk in. Jeannie attempted to close the door gently, trying not to startle Diane, but it swung easily on the hinges and closed with a bang. Diane looked up with a start. "Oh, Jeannie, you scared the snot out of me!" she said and laughed. "Just give me a minute to clean up and we can get going." She put her things in the bottom drawer of her desk, on top of a large manila envelope and wiped her charcoal covered hands on her overalls. As she walked to the sink to wash the remaining mess, she spoke to Jeannie, "I got a call from the building engineer this morning, seems he's had an emergency and can't get here till tomorrow, but he left his plans in the office, so we have a list of the areas we need to cover."

Diane pulled a clip board that had a checklist of areas to be photographed, numbered, catalogued and described from under a pile of papers one her desk. "I had originally wanted to start with the murals in the central lobby, but with practices going on in the gym, there will be too many people around for us to work effectively. Let's start in the shop classes in the back and work our way forward, then maybe we can get to the murals after lunch. I wanted to wait until we have the engineer here to go up in the tower, so maybe we can do that tomorrow."

Diane handed Jeannie a log book and pen, picked up her camera bag and tripod and started for the door. She smiled at Jeannie, but it did not reach her eyes, which looked tired and strained. Jeannie could see that Diane was distracted and upset. She didn't exactly know what to say to her about Miss. Holtzbaur's disappearance so she broke the uncomfortable silence. "Diane, I'm so sorry about Mona Holtzbaur, you must be terribly worried."

Diane was surprised that Jeannie knew about her missing friend, but she realized that Mike must have confided in her. She gave Jeannie a sad smile, "Thanks Jeannie, I just don't know what to think anymore. I just can't shake this bad feeling that I won't ever see her again. That's why I was drawing just now. It helps settle my mind."

Jeannie felt bad for Diane. "Hey, don't worry, Mike's on the case," Jeannie's said proudly, "If anybody can figure it out, he can." While she had every confidence in her father, she hoped she wasn't making promises that Mike couldn't keep.

They walked out the door to head toward the C wing. A couple of students were loitering in front of Miss Holtzbaur's room in an agitated conversation. They both wore athletic warm up suits, one for the basketball team, the other one for the wrestling team. Diane vaguely recognized the one, but the other she knew to be Mitchell Ballenger, who was a senior in her sculpture class. She was pretty sure the other boy was a seniors as well, he had on a class ring, but since she had never taught him, she wasn't sure of his name. They went silent when Jeannie and Diane came out of the room.

"Hey guys, how about if you get down where you belong?" Diane suggested, putting on her authoritative "Teacher" voice. She phrased it as a question, but there was no doubt that she was taking charge of the situation.

The taller blond boy rolled his eyes at Miss Bader, and replied arrogantly, "We're going to practice, just keep your shirt on, _or maybe not_," he added under his breath as he winked to Mitchell. Mitchell snickered, turned to Jeannie and stared in an unsettling way.

"We weren't doing anything," they both said without being asked as they slowly turned and sauntered in the general direction of the gym, still laughing and mumbling. It seem to Diane and Jeannie that they were having a very inappropriate conversation direct at the two young women.

"Do you always have to put up with that kind of crap?" Jeannie asked incredulously.

It was Diane's turn to roll her eyes.

oooooooo

Mike sat down at his desk and looked at his messages. The preliminary report from the lab was in and as he expected, the analysis on the contents of the bags was still in progress, but nothing was jumping out at the techs yet. The classroom had produced more than a hundred distinct fingerprints, no surprise there, either. The report on the plan book was a different story. There were only four sets of fingerprint, none of which had been identified. Only 4? That was a little more promising.

He had also gotten messages from most of the hospitals in the bay area, and Mona Holtzbaur had not been admitted in the past 5 days. He called the last two on his list, Franklin and San Francisco General and got progressively more aggravated. As he spent the next 45 minutes being transferred and on hold, he began to review the files that Scott Russell had left there the previous evening.

It seemed that Mona was a busy girl when it came to disciplining her students. There were at least a hundred names on the list, but most of the infractions were minor offences like cutting class or smoking in the bathroom. There were two names that jumped out at Mike. The first was Marc Walen, one of the captains of the basketball team. Mike had seen him play a number times and thought he had the potential to go far in the game. It seemed that Miss Holtzbaur had written him up recently, but curiously, there was no information on what for. The other was Mitchell Ballenger, but again, there was no information on the offence. That named seemed really familiar to Mike, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember why he recognized it. He would need to follow up on Mitchell and Marc's records at the school. Just to be thorough, he made a note to call Juvie to see if either had had an encounter with the law. Just then, Inspector Russell knocked on the office door and Mike waved him in.

Mike put up his hand when Scott began to speak. A voice had come on the other end of the phone. No one by the name of Mona Holtzbaur had been admitted at either of the last of the two hospitals. Mike hung up the phone. "The good news," Mike began, "is that Mona's not in the hospital, or the morgue." Inspector Russell was relieved. "Were you able to contact the neighbors?" Mike asked.

"No, Mike, I swung back there last night and nobody was home. This morning, first thing, I did a trace on the address and found out that a family by the name of Murray lives at the address. Here is their current phone number," he said as he handed Mike a slip of paper. "I have called a number of times, but still no luck. I think we are going to have to canvas all the neighbors until we can get ahold of the Murray's. How did you make out with the hotels in Reno and Vegas?"

"I'm still waiting for call backs from most of them. With the holiday, it's awfully hard to get information out of anyone. Can you call your contacts? Maybe a little local pressure will help us get the answers we need."

Scott agreed and added, "I feel like we are standing still, Mike. I really think it's time to issue APB's in California and Nevada. Usually, if a person hasn't turned up in 5 days, well, let's just say most times it doesn't end well."

Mike knew very well the statistics of finding people in one piece dwindled as the days went on; so as much as he didn't want to go that route, Mike didn't see any alternatives. He told Inspector Russell to go ahead with the APB. He also asked Scott to go back down to Cumberland Street and talk to more folks in the neighborhood as well as trying to contact the Murray's. Mike filled the Inspector in on the preliminary lab report and indicated that he was going back down to the school to follow up on two of the names in the discipline file. With that, Inspector Russell got up to leave the office and Mike grabbed his coat and hat. Mike picked up the file off his desk and followed Scott out the door. They parted ways in the car park, Scott to Cumberland Street and Mike back to Mission High.

ooooooooooo

Steve's alarm rang at 11:00. He would have much rather stayed in bed, but he had promised Mike to keep an eye on Jeannie. Besides which, he never minded spending the day with her. So he dragged his tired, sore body out of bed, took a long shower and dressed casually in jeans, a sweat shirt and boots. _Swell,_ he thought, looking in the mirror at the purple bruise around his right eye. He grinned as something Mike had said about the wages of sin came to mind. He left the bathroom, collected his sun glasses and headed down the stairs. Because of Mike's trepidations, he considered grabbing his .38, but thought better about taking a sidearm into a high school. As he got into his car, he decided to surprise Jeannie and picked up some sandwiches at a deli on the way. _Maybe this will keep her from asking about being baby sat_, he mused. Not likely, but it was worth a try!

Pulling up to Mission High, he was surprised, or not so surprised, to see the tan LTD that he and Mike drove on duty parked in the all-but-empty lot. When he entered the main office, Mike was in deep conversation with a short grey haired woman. As she got up and asked, "May I help you?" Mike greeted Steve.

"Hey buddy boy, you look 100% better than you did before."

Steve smiled and took off his sun glasses as Mrs. Molen turned to Mike, "So you know this handsome young fella?"

Mike laughed and introduce Steve to Mrs. Molen. _Even with a black _eye, _you charm them at every age, _Mike marveled. She handed Steve a pass key, a school map and directed him to Diane's classroom. When he turned to leave she added, "I think they were going to start in the back of the school, in the C hallway, but that key will open any door in the building."

Steve walked down the semi-lit hallway. He easily found room A111, but no one was there. He pulled out the map and followed it to the central lobby. Much as he tried to interpret the maze of hallways and stairs, he got hopelessly lost in the darkened building. He stopped and looked at the map as he ran his hand through his hair and thought about his embarrassing predicament_. Damn, just what I needed. I'm here to protect Jeannie, but I'll need to be rescued from this rabbit warren of hallways_.

He looked around and began to see what Jeannie meant about the building being creepy when it was empty, the half-light not helping any. He started to walk again, peering down at the map. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up just before he heard rapid footsteps coming toward him.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N: An extra-long chapter to close out 2014. Happy New Year and happy crime solving, everyone!**_

Steve walked towards the direction of the footsteps, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt a little foolish for being so jumpy, he was in a high school for God's sake. What could be dangerous about a high school? He rounded the corner and ran headlong into a middle aged man in a dark blue workman's uniform pushing a large wheeled trash bin, which upset on contact. Steve landed hard on the hall floor with a grunt. _Could this day get anymore more embarrassing?_ He wondered, brushing off the contents of the bin. As he was trying to right himself, a large hand presented itself and helped him to his feet.

"Sorry about that young man, I wasn't looking where I was going," responded the workman nervously. He had the name "Clark" embroidered on his shirt, "I didn't think anyone was back here." The workman continued to look around anxiously as he started scooping up the spilled trash.

"No problem," Steve replied as he continued to pick the remaining bits of rubbish from his clothes. Fortunately, it seemed mostly to be old newspaper, so his clothes were none the worse for wear. Still sore from his Tahoe adventure, a groan escaped his lips when he bent down and helped gather up the trash that has scattered on the floor. _Close encounter with a trash can_, he thought. Mike would have a field day with this if he ever found out.

As the workman dropped the remaining bits in the bin, he questioned Steve, "So what are you doing back here?"

Holding up his map, Steve replied sheepishly, "Well, truth be told I'm lost. I was looking for Diane Bader and Jeannie Stone, I think they are taking pictures in the C wing. But, this place is a maze."

The janitor seemed to relax and chuckled, "That it is. And frankly, that map is useless. But see here, you are in the D wing, you need to backtrack and make the second left you come to, walk straight away back, and take a right turn at the dead end."

Steve crumpled up the map and added it to the bin. He thanked the janitor and headed off in the correct direction.

ooooooooo

After Steve had left the office, Mike continued his conversation with Mrs. Molen. He had been trying, unsuccessfully, to convince her to show him the discipline records for the two students he was interested in. "Ah, come on Bri, it's me, Mike," turning on the old Mike Stone charm. "I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't important."

Unfortunately, Mike had met his match in Mrs. Molen. She smiled just as sweetly, "Mike, I realize it's important, with Mona missing and all." Mike was startled by the last statement, being under the impression that the principal wanted to keep the whole mess quiet. But then again, Mrs. Molen knew about all the skeletons in the closets of Mission High. She continued, "You know darn well I can't release those files without Mr. Pence's approval or a court order. We have a protocol to follow. There must be something about the subject of these discipline referrals that needed to be kept private or else they wouldn't be locked up; besides, the decision to release information is way above my pay grade."

Mike knew he had met his match. He dropped the smile and glared at the uncooperative secretary, "Well get him on the phone then!" He thought better of his tone to Mrs. Moen and added, "Please?"

He looked at his watch while he waited for Brit Molen to contact Mr. Pence. Impatient at the delay, he walked down the hallway with the thought of checking up on Jeannie.

ooooooooo

Jeannie and Diane had made a lot of progress on their assignment, with Diane on the camera and Jeannie on the log book. Although Diane was still off her game due to worry about Mona, the task at hand seemed to even her mood. They were just finishing up the last room on the C hallway when Steve appeared around the corner.

"Hey babe," Jeannie greeted him with surprise in her voice, "What are you doing here?"

He held up the bag from the deli and responded, "Looks like you ladies could use some lunch."

Although Jeannie accepted his explanation, she was slightly suspicious about the nature of his appearance. If she knew Mike like she thought she did, she was sure he had something to do with the visit.

Diane looked on quizzically as Jeannie gave Steve a big hug. Before her stood a handsome man about her age, with winning smile and warm green eyes, only slightly marred by a large purple bruise. He was a little shorter than her, but just about everybody was. "Who's the stranger bearing gifts?" she asked Jeannie with a grin.

"Oh, sorry Diane, this is Steve Keller. He my dad's partner."

A cop? Diane was a little surprised. He did not fit the image of cop she had in her mind. That image ran more toward middle age men with conservative suits and short haircuts. Steve Keller certainly wasn't that. Also, Jeannie's greeting made her think he was a bit more than just her dad's partner."

Jeannie went on with her introduction, "Steve, this is the art teacher I told you about, Diane Bader.

It was now Steve's turn to be surprised. Although Jeannie had not described her, when Steve thought of school teachers, he didn't imagine young, 6 foot tall redheads in overalls. She wasn't conventionally pretty, but there was something about her. When she smiled at him, it seemed to light up the darkened hallway. He smiled back and took her hand, all the while still locked in her gaze. This went on a little too long for Jeannie's liking. He didn't realize that Jeannie was staring at them until she impatiently cleared her throat.

Diane startled a little. _Whoa, what just happened there? _She thought. Regaining her composure, she suggested that they should head back to her classroom to eat lunch and started rapidly down the hall without waiting for Steve and Jeannie's reply.

"What?" Steve said as Jeannie looked at him in an odd manner. She continued to stare at him as they hurried to catch up with Diane.

ooooooooo

Jeannie returned to her normal, cheerful self when she spotted Mike standing in the hallway near Diane's classroom. She sped up ahead of Steve and gave her dad a hug.

"What are you doing here, Mike?" Jeannie asked as they walked into Diane's classroom.

"Can't your old dad come and take his best girl to lunch while she's in town? I did stand you up yesterday, as I …." He stopped short as the classroom came into full view. The room was trashed. Steve came in just behind them and gaped at the scene. Diane was standing staring blankly in what looked like the eye of a hurricane. Paper was everywhere. Tables were overturned and books were pulled from the shelves. Her desk top had been swept clean of paper and although it was stilled locked, it appeared as if someone had tried to prise it open; on top of that, what looked like gallons of red tempera had been liberally splattered over everything. Painted on the wall in large block letters were the words, "WHAT DO YOU KNOW, BITCH?"

Mike left Jeannie's side and went over and put his hands on Diane's shoulders. For some reason, he felt very protective of the young woman even though he barely knew her. He gently walked her out of the classroom and into the hall followed by Jeannie and Steve.

"Lt. Stone, what are you doing?" Diane asked as she broke his grip and tried to reenter the room. "I need to clean this mess up!"

Steve stopped her before she could get back in the room. "Miss Bader, it's a crime scene, now. Until we can get the lab in there, it needs to stay just as it is," he said sympathetically. When he was sure she wasn't going to go back in, he turned to head to the office and call the crime lab. A light in the classroom across the hall caught his attention. He peered through the window in the door and let out a low whistle.

Mike looked at Steve with a question in his eyes.

"We have another problem, Mike."

Mike looked in the classroom door and shook his head at what he saw. Mona's classroom had also been ransacked. After Jeannie and Diane retrieved their purses from the room, Steve secured Diane's door with the pass key he has been given and checked room A112 to make sure it was locked. With that, Mike and Steve escorted Jeannie and Diane down to the office.

ooooooooo

Bri was just getting off the phone when the office door opened. She handed Mike a message slip: Inspector Russell needed to speak to him. Then seeing the grim look on Miss Bader's face, Mrs. Molen was puzzled. "What's up, Diane?"

When Diane didn't answer, Mike filled in the secretary, "Mrs. Molen, there's been some vandalism in A111 and A112."

Bri Molen looked shocked, "You're kidding, really?" She couldn't believe it. This kind of thing did not happen at Mission High. "Do you think it's related to Miss Holzbaur's disappearance or just a coincidence?"

"It's too soon to tell, but if I had to venture a guess, I'd say yes, it's related." Mike responded. He really did not believe in coincidences.

With the mention of Mona's name, Diane paled and looked like she was going to be sick. Jeannie picked up on it, and got Mike's attention. "Mike, I'm going to take Diane out for some air." He nodded his head and motioned to Steve, not wanting the ladies to go out alone. Steve followed Diane and Jeannie out the main door.

Jeannie sat Diane down on a low wall just outside the main door and dropped down next to her. Steve stood facing them, unsure of what to do next. He looked at the deli bag in his hand and walked to a trash can and tossed it in. As he turned around and looked at Diane, he saw tears begin to fall from her eyes.

"She's gone Jeannie, I know it." Diane said in a whisper. Knowing how close the two were, Jeannie's heart ached for Diane.

ooooooooo

Mike asked Bri Molen if she knew how many people had been in the building this morning.

"I can get you a list of the teams that were practicing, but you'll have to go to the coaches to get the rosters," she replied. "You will also have to talk to the chief custodian to find out who was on duty today," she added. "And who knows who else may have come in when I was busy." Mike let out a heavy sigh, _it was never easy_, he thought.

Mike got an outside line on the phone and called the crime lab. "We need someone back down at Mission High, there has been some damage done to two classrooms. It is possibly related to missing person scene you worked yesterday. Mrs. Molen was eavesdropping, but she didn't need to hear the other side of the conversation to know that Mike had not gotten the reply he wanted. "What do you mean you can't get here till at least tomorrow? Give me break, Charlie, we've got a missing school teacher out there somewhere." He replied in a strident tone. "Right… yes… right, un hun, as soon as you can then." he said impatiently into the phone before slamming it down. Taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone again and rapidly dialed Inspector Russell.

"Russell, Missing Persons," was the reply on the phone. Mike responded and Scott Russell, "Mike, yeah I've got some news."

Inspector Russell ran down what he had uncovered. While he still hadn't got a hold of the Murrays, two other neighbors confirmed that they had not seen Mona since she left for work on Friday. Another neighbor seemed to think the Murray's had also gone out of town, but they couldn't be sure, well that was no help. He had better luck with Las Vegas PD. Mona Holtzbaur did in fact have a reservation at the Sahara Hotel, but had never showed. The APB had been issued, with no results as yet and his contacts in Vegas were going to check the hospitals and the morgue.

"How does a little old lady disappear without a trace?" Mike asked Scott rhetorically. Inspector Russell didn't reply. With dwindling optimism, Mike told Scott about the new damage to Mission High.

Inspector Russell, searching for something that might yield some clues, suggested they get 20 Cumberland St. processed as well. That drew a terse response from Mike.

"Don't bother, Scott. Well, you can call in the request but they are backed up until at least tomorrow. The holidays, you know, he said sarcastically. Do me one favor though, go down to the lab and see if they have made any more progress with material from yesterday."

Scott asked him if he had spoken to the night shift janitors about Friday. It had totally slipped Mike's mind! He made a note to do that as soon as he took care of Jeannie and Diane.

Mike hung up the phone more gently this time. Remembering the files he wanted to see, he asked Bri if she had managed to contact Kirby Pence. Mrs. Molen answered with trepidation. She had seen Mike's mood deteriorate as he got none of the answers he was looking for on the phone. "Sorry, Mike, no joy on Kirby, I have been trying for a half hour, nobody's home."

"How many people are left in the building at this point?" Make asked.

Mrs. Molen responded, "I think all the practices are over, so as far as I know it's only me and three janitors, why Mike?"

"Well, until we can get a proper look at the rooms, I'd like to secure the building. Do you think that will be a problem?"

"Telling people that they can go home early is NEVER a problem Mike!"

"I'll also need keys for the building so we can have access when we need it."

"Sure thing," the secretary said as she pulled a key from the drawer. "This will open the main door. Your handsome young partner still has the pass key I gave him," she added with a wink. "That will access all the classrooms. You will also need this. She handed Mike a card with four numbers on it. That's the code for the alarm system. I will set it when I leave."

Mike smiled "Thanks, and Bri, keep trying Kirby Pence's number and also, can you get the night shift janitors up here so I can talk to them before they leave?"

"Can do, Mike."

ooooooooo

Mike heard Mrs. Molen's voice on the PA system as he walked outside and saw Jeannie and Diane sitting on the low block wall to the left of the door. It appeared as if Diane had been crying, but now was sitting staring off into space. Mike took a second and shook off the anger and dread that had collected while he was on the phone. He sat down on the wall next to Diane. Taking her hand, he spoke reassuringly, "Diane, please don't give up on Mona. I know it looks bad, but at this point no news is good news. We haven't quit on her, so don't you, ok." Truthfully, he really didn't have much faith in the words he was saying and while he didn't want to give her false hope, he wasn't ready to give up. Diane was comforted by Mike's gentle touch and calming words. She gave Mike a sad smile and seemed to regroup a little.

"I'll be in at 8 am tomorrow to continue the cataloging, but when can I get back into my room and clean up?" Diane asked.

Mike was a little surprised that Diane wanted to continue on the project in light of what had happened.

"I'll tell you what," Mike answered rubbing his hands together with newfound resolve, "How about if Steve here comes over in the morning and helps you and Jeannie, then when the lab boys are done in your room, maybe he can give you a hand cleaning up, since he is still _technically_ on vacation." Mikes suggestion was two-fold, it would give Diane the help she needed and it would give Steve an excuse to be in the school and keep an eye on the girls.

Steve looked up, at the mention of his name, smiled and nodded in agreement. "Sure, Mike, no problem."

Diane was about to protest, but with a look from Mike, she agreed to go along with him.

Mike got up and walked over to Steve and spoke in a low voice. "Thanks buddy boy, I owe you one."

Steve rolled his eyes, "I think it's more than one at this point!"

"Point, taken," Mike replied, cuffing Steve's neck playfully, "I'm a little concerned that Jeannie and Diane's bags were left unattended in the classroom. How about you make sure they get home safely? I need to see the night shift custodians, then head over to Marin County and talk Kirby Pence into opening his files."

"That's an easy one Mike," Steve grinned, peering at the two ladies sitting on the wall.

Mike looked at Steve's expression and wagged a finger at him, "Be good!" he admonished with a laugh.

"Hey, if nothing else, I'm always a gentleman." Steve replied cheekily. "But seriously, is there anything else I can do, Mike?"

Mike thought about it for a minute, grateful for Steve's considerate offer, "Listen, the lab can't get here till at least tomorrow. How about you come back after everybody clears out and take a look at the rooms." Mike said handing Steve the key and alarm code. "When I get back from Marin County, we can meet up with Inspector Scott and see where we are."

oooooo

Mike walked into the building as Steve, Jeannie and Diane headed for the parking lot. By this point, the night shift janitors were assembled in the main office. They were in a jovial mood, learning they had just been granted a rare shift off. Mike introduced himself to Ron, Len and Bill.

"Can any of you remember working in room A112 on Friday night last?" Mike began. The men looked at one another quizzically, as if trying to think their way back to last week. When no one spoke up, Mike continued. "It was the last night before the students went on holiday, there was a basketball, game…"

Mike left the statement open, hoping one of the men would fill-in the blanks. When no one spoke up, he got suspicious. "Come on men, it's not that long ago, what's up?"

Len looked at the other two custodians, they nodded as he spoke somewhat guiltily. "To tell you the truth, Lt. Stone, we kind of blew off the A hallway that night. We knew there wasn't going to be anyone here after that and we could get to it when we came in the afternoon the day after Chriatmas. After we locked up the main door we, eh, had a little holiday celebration, instead. At the end of our shift, we left out through the back."

_Another dead end_, Mike though. Before he turned the janitor's loose, he asked them one more question.

"Did you see anybody hanging around A111 or A112 as you were working today?"

"Sorry Lieutenant," Len again spoke for the group, we just got in at noon."

The janitors exited the office, Mike walked around the counter to Bri Molen's desk. She was just hanging up the phone. "Sorry, Mike, still no luck with Kirby." She said anticipating his question. As much as he hated to waste the time, he made his way out to make the drive to Kirby Pence's house.

oooooo

Getting Jeannie and Diane home proved a little more time consuming than Steve had anticipated. Jeannie had driven to school, Diane did not. Wanting to make sure they both arrived safely, he proposed that Diane ride with him, he would follow Jeannie home and then drop Diane. Jeannie started to protest the arrangement, but taking a page out of Mike's playbook, Steve glared at her, successfully he thought. Not wanting to make a fuss in front of Diane, Jeannie conceded the point, but mused to herself, _just you wait till I get you alone, Steve Keller!_

Diane was slightly surprised by Steve's ride. _How can he afford that on a cops' salary? _They climbed in the car and left the lot following Jeannie. After he made sure Jeannie was home and locked in safe, he continued on with Diane. She didn't say anything at first, closing her eyes and resting her head on the passenger side window. She was so still Steve almost thought she had dozed off.

"Nice car Steve," Diane stated absently. Her sudden stab at conversation startled Steve.

"Uh, thanks," he said.

After a prolonged silence, she volunteered, "I don't know what I would do without Mona."

Steve lent a sympathetic ear as she proceeded to tell him all about her relationship with friend and mentor. She didn't really know why she was telling him all this, she hardly even knew him, but somehow, it just seemed right. As she was speaking, he could not get over how similar her relationship with Mona was to his own close friendship with Mike. It was like looking at Mike and him in some kind of odd mirror. The thought that he might have to go on without Mike one day made him shudder. Lost in his own thoughts, he was surprised that she had stopped speaking and was staring at him.

"I'm sorry I just dumped that all on you. I feel like if I don't keep talking about her…" she trailed off as they pulled up to her address. She had no idea how well he understood. Steve turned off the car and just stared at her. He didn't know what to say. She looked directly into his green eyes and after an uncomfortable interval, she finally spoke. "I get the feeling you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Steve wanted to explain how he knew, but walked her to her door in silence. She kissed him on the cheek, "Thanks for listening to me babble, some day you are going to have to tell all about it."

Diane unlocked her door and went inside. Steve stood in place, staring at the closed door. At that moment he knew he had to do everything he could to find her friend.

oooooooo

Mike's drive over the Golden Gate to Marin County proved to be another exercise in futility. It wasn't only the traffic which caused the trip to take twice as long as it should have, but his reward upon arrival was and empty driveway and a dark house. What a waste, he thought as he drove back to Bryant Street, he couldn't help but feel frustrated by the lack of progress in finding Mona. It was half past four when he parked the car and headed up to the office. After grabbing a cup of coffee he sat down at his desk and tried to ring Inspector Russell, but had no luck getting hold of him. "I am really batting a thousand today!" he said to no one in particular. He openly wondered how long Rudy would let his involvement in this case continue.

oooooooo

Steve pulled back into the deserted parking lot of Mission High. He grabbed a pen and notebook from the glove box and a flash light out of the trunk and proceeded to the main door, open it, and disabled the alarm. Locking the door behind him he turned on the flashlight and walked past the office toward A111 and A112. If he thought the building was creepy before, it was nothing to what it felt like at present. He opened Mona's classroom door, turned on the light and stood taking in the scene. He could tell that what had once been a tidy room was now basically a disaster area. A bookshelf full of binders was overturned and their contents were shredded and scattered. The drawers to the desk at the front were pulled out haphazardly and their contents had been thoroughly searched and spread. Using his pen, he sifted through the contents, hoping that something might jump out at him. He stood back up and walked around slowly, trying to recreate in his mind how the perp had searched the room, obviously looking for something, and it seemed to him, getting more frantic as time went by. He took out his note book and made a list of the areas of the room he wanted the lab to concentrate on.

Turning the lights off and locking the door, he started to cross the hall to Diane's room, all the while looking around. He felt as if someone or something was watching him. He swept the hall front and back slowly with the flashlight beam. Nothing. He unlocked the door, turned on the light and entered A111. Having seen the mess firsthand already, he went directly over to the desk. He checked out the scratch marks on the lock and saw a screwdriver discarded on the floor. He hoped whomever had used it was kind enough to leave a few fingerprints. He stood up again and looked around the room. He felt more than saw the rage and frustration of the person that had ransacked the room. He supposed that once the suspect couldn't get into the desk, he had simply expressed his desperation with destruction.

Steve walked to the back of the room and check the door to what he took to be a storage closet. He picked up a paper towel from the counter and used it to check the handle. It was locked, but something told him he should have a look around. He tried the key in the lock, it turned easily. As he went in, the door swung closed behind him, hitting his elbow and knocking the flashlight out of his hand, leaving him standing in total darkness. He cursed as he rammed into a crate that was sitting on the floor in front of the door. Standing still, he rubbed his shin as his eyes adjusted to the darkened room. He straighten up, turned and ran his hand over the wall next to the door and luckily found the light switch and turned it on.

It was not a closet, but appears to be a workroom of some sort. He picked up his flashlight and looked around. There were open shelves lining the center of the room with what seemed to be sculptures in various stages of completion. There were about 10 dusty boxes stacked to the left. On the right was a large hexagonal object, clad in chrome, covered with a thick lid. Above it was a large ventilation hood. There seemed to be a scrap of something caught in the lid, he walked over and tried to pull it free, but the heavy lid held it fast. He hoisted the lid open with a grunt, it pivoted on a hinge and caught on the bar that held it in place. The scrap fluttered free and dropped out of sight into the large cavity. Steve looked at the fire brick lining and leaned over as he reached down into what felt like pile of ash to retrieve the curious scrap. Something sharp nicked hand. He stood back up, turned on his flashlight and shown the beam onto the floor of the cavity. A glint of gold caught in the beam as Steve looked on with horror at what was unmistakably human teeth.


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N: Thanks to the folks who are still reading and commenting. You have already been introduced to the murderer(s) now it's time for some detective work.**_

Steve leaned in and focused the flashlight on the contents of the kiln. First he saw the scrap of what looked like thick brown nylon fabric that had originally caught his attention. Along with pile of ash and the teeth, he saw what looked like a locket with an M engraved on the face. He glanced down at the greyish-white powder that covered his fingertips. Recoiling, he took a few backward steps, the ramifications of what he had just seen crashing down on him. Slightly nauseated by the realization of what clung to his hands, he was torn between the need to remove it immediately and the knowledge that he had to preserve the evidence. His heart racing, he backed up one more step and sat heavily on the dusty stacked boxes of clay.

_Oh, man, _he though, staring at the fingers of his right hand. He resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair as he contemplated his next step. It took a few minutes for him to calm his breathing and his thoughts. Deciding there was more than enough evidence in the pottery kiln, he went to the utility sink to wash his hand. When he looked, there was some sort of residue in the sink. _Great, I can't even wash my hands!_ Not wanting to contaminate the crime scene any more than he had, he looked around and spied a box of examination gloves on one of the racks that held the student projects. He got up from the crates pulling the pen from his pocket and coaxed two gloves from the tissue-dispenser styled box, sliding them on over his dust covered hands. He exited the room and locked the door.

Clicking on his flash light in the darkened hall, he started down toward the office. He thought about Diane and how, if the remains proved to be Mona's, she would feel. He unlocked the office door and headed for the phone. The main phone consul on Mrs. Molen's desk was a jumble of buttons and lights. The phone system appeared to be locked down in night mode and try as he might, he could not get a dial tone. Frustrated at his inability to get a call out on the infernal machine, he remembered the bank of pay phones in the central lobby.

He walked back down the darken hallway past A111. His footsteps echoed in the deserted building and it felt as if the dark was closing in around him. Reaching the lobby, he fished a coin out of his pocket, spoke to the operator and was connected to the phone on Mike's desk.

After one ring he was rewarded with Mike's booming voice. "Stone, Homicide." When Mike heard Steve's voice on the other end, he was immediately concerned at how shaky it sounded. What's the matter Steve?"

"Mike, I think I found out where Mona's been," Steve began. Mike was a little confused, but before he could ask, Steve laid out the nature of his grisly discovery.

Mike let the information sink in. Damn, this was exactly what he had been afraid of. What had been a missing person's case might now be a homicide. His anger grew as he inwardly cursed at the dead ends and delays that the case had presented. Now, perhaps it was too late. Steve waited silently on the other end.

"Where are you now Steve?"

"I'm in the central lobby at the pay phone. The building is closed, I locked the front door after I came in so we won't need black and whites to secure the scene. And Mike, it might be best if we kept this response low key." Steve began.

"What are you thinking, buddy boy?"

"Well first, nobody is around right now, if we get the scene processed quietly, we won't tip our hand to whoever did this. And second, the kids will be coming back to school next week, and we really don't want a panic in the community."

Mike was torn. It was the second time in the past few days that a discrete response had been suggested, and the first time seemed to have been a mistake, but he had to admit it could give them an advantage in finding whoever did this.

"Now that we have a body, so to speak, I think we may have jumped the queue in the lab," Mike said sadly. He looked at his watch, it was going on 5pm. "I need to head down and talk to Charlie in person before he leaves for the day and get the lab team over there. We'll also need Bernie to verify that what you found are human remains. We can do that without a lot of fuss tonight, but beyond that… Considering the circumstances, I'm not sure being quiet about this is the safest thing for the students or the staff."

Steve hung up the phone and walked back up the hall. Suddenly needing to escape the oppressive darkness in the building, Steve set the alarm and secured the main door. He sat down on the wall by the door and waited for the Mike to arrive. He closed his eyes and thought about how they were going to have to break the new to Diane when suddenly, he got the distinct feeling that someone was watching him, he opened his eyes and looked around but saw no one.

ooooooooo

Mike hung up the phone and headed down to the lab. Charlie was speaking to Inspector Russell when Mike came through the door. Charlie took one look at his expression and cut him off before he could speak, "Look, I'm sorry Mike, but we are backed up and I…"

Mike put his hand up to quiet him, "I know Charlie, that's not why I here. Steve is over at there now. He found what he thinks are human remains in the school." Scott and Charlie both stared at him in with stunned expressions as Mike explained what Steve found.

"I'm sorry Mike, I honestly didn't think it would turn out this way, I really hate to lose one," Inspector Russell said sincerely. "But until we get a positive ID, I'll keep on this. If we find out that it's Mona, well, I know it's won't be my case anymore, but I'll be happy to help in any way that I can."

"I appreciate that." Mike replied.

"Charlie, who can we get over there? We really need to get in tonight." Mike asked looking around the nearly deserted lab.

"Well, you've got me and Dale," said Charlie, "but everyone else is out in the field, home or on leave." Mike shook his head in disgust, the holidays, he thought.

Inspector Russell added, "You've got me as well."

"Thanks Scott. One more thing fellas, can we do this without lights and sirens? Steve thinks, and I agree, that if we do this quietly, we might be onto the killer before he or she knows that we've found the remains."

Mike left the lab and took the stairs to the morgue. Bernie was just heading out the door when Mike rounded the corner. He shook his head, "What, Mike?" Mike explained the situation, and Bernie gave him an intrigued look. "A body in a pottery kiln? That's a new one on me." Without the need for body transport, Bernie went back and got his field kit and followed Mike out the door as far as the elevator and then headed down to the parking lot.

Mike, in turn, went up to Rudy Olsen's office, hoping the captain was still in. Although his secretary was gone for the day, Mike tried rapping on the door. He was surprised to hear a gruff, "Come in." Mike filled Rudy in on the latest development in the Mona Holtzbaur case. Aware that the lab was short-handed, he told Mike to take whoever he needed to process the scene.

"I guess it's in your court now, Mike." Rudy said as Mike left the office.

Mike went back up to his office. Bill and Lee had just started their shift when Mike came in the bull pen. He brought them up to speed on the case and they left before Mike grabbed his coat and hat. Thinking he better try to reach Kirby Pence, he dialed his number one more time. After listening impatiently to the phone ring and ring with no response, he slammed down the phone and headed out the door.

oooooooo

Steve was still sitting in front of the school when the collection of investigators arrived. He unlocked the door and disabled the alarm, leading them to the A112 and A111. Mike looked sideways at Steve's gloved hands. Steve just shook his head as if to say, I'll tell you later. Bill and Dale worked in A112, Lee and Charlie worked A111, photographing the scene and dusting for print. It took the better part of the evening to process both rooms.

Bernie collected the evidence from the kiln and bagged it as Mike and Steve looked on. "This is a pretty effective way to dispose of evidence," Bernie marveled as he swept the contents onto a dustpan. "It gets to over 1500 degrees F. You can turn a body to ash in 2 ½ hours at 1400 degrees F. The amount of debris is consistent with what you expect from an average adult. What they didn't know, however, is that it won't destroy the teeth, or most precious metals." He held up a separate bag which held the locket. "Looks like platinum. You need at least 3500 degree to melt that. Also, it looks like our victim had several gold fillings, they won't melt until about 1900 degrees. We shouldn't have any trouble making and id if we can get dental records to compare to."

He handed the bag with the locket to Mike, along with a separate bag that held the scrap of brown nylon.

"Is there any way to find out how long ago this happened, Bernie?"

"Not Really Mike. Once the body is reduced to ash, there is no way to tell. With the way the ventilation is set up, once the cycle finished and the kiln cooled, there wouldn't even be any odor, although I image it would have had to happen overnight, because it probably smelled like a barbeque, during the cycle.

At the mention of a barbeque, Steve cringed. He tried to distract himself by looking at an instruction manual pinned to the wall, ignoring Bernie as he described his gruesome cargo with relish. After Bernie left for the lab, He got Mike's attention. "Look at this, complete instructions on how to operate the kiln. Anybody could have come in here and done this."

Mike shook his head at the magnitude of the job ahead, "That gives a lot of suspects. Let's get Charlie in here to dust for prints and check out the residue in the sink."

They left the Kiln room. Charlie and Lee had just finished the classroom and moved into the smaller room. Steve walked over to the sink and peeled off his gloves, relieved that he could finally wash the remains off his hands. Mike held up the bag with the thick brown fabric.

"It looks like a track suit," Steve suggested. "What are Mission's colors?"

Mike's face fell, "Brown and Gold," he replied, hoping that this didn't mean a student was involved. He looked at the bag with the locket, "I guess we will have to show this to Diane Bader. She will probably know if it belonged to Mona."

It was a job neither of them wanted to tackle.

_**A/N: The data on the kiln, cremation and metal temperatures is accurate and Kilns are dead simple to use. It's the kind of thing art teachers think about at work**_**.**


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N: Thank you for creeping on this long and winding ride with me. A little investigation and a little deception. **_

"What's next Mike?" Steve asked drying off his hands and pitching the towel in the trash. He glanced at the clock, it was already after nine pm. He was all of a sudden very tired. The few hours of sleep he had gotten that morning had not totally erased he events in Tahoe and the overnight drive back to San Francisco. While he should have been hungry, the discovery in the kiln had pretty much killed his appetite for the evening_. What kind of sicko puts an old lady in a kiln? _He thought.

As they exited to the hall, Mike looked at Steve and noticed the tired slump in his shoulders. "Once we get finished up here, and drop off everything at the lab, I'm headed back to the office, we need to get ahold of the principal. The school is supposed to be open tomorrow." Mike wondered about the sudden unavailability of Kirby Pence. It was strange. Mike thought he would have been here today, or at least available for questions, in light of what had gone on yesterday. "If I can't get him, I think we need to kick this up to superintendent of schools, although I really think he needs to be brought into the loop in any case. I would prefer if the school was closed tomorrow, but that's not my decision. Since it's Friday and Monday is New Year Eve, we could keep the building clear until Wednesday when the students come back. By then, with any luck, we will have a better handle on this."

"What do you want me to do?" Steve asked, yawning.

You, hot shot are heading home to get some rest, you look like hell."

"Thanks, Mike," Steve said sarcastically. "But, I'm alright." He rubbed his tired eyes and winced slight as he brushed the bruise surrounding his right eye. At that point, Bill, and Dale were exiting Mona's classroom

"Mike, we're all finished up in there. But honestly, I don't think we are going to get much more than we did before. Too many prints, and with all the mess, it's hard to say if anything is missing. Fortunately, we do have the photos of the classroom before it was ransacked so maybe we can compare those. Who knows, we might turn up something." Dale reported. "I'll just go in and check to see when Charlie and Lee will be done and then we can get out of here."

Just as they finished speaking Lee came into the hall. "Dale I'm glad, you're done, Charlie wants you back in there to finish up photographing and collecting evidence. Mike if it's ok with you Bill and I will head back to Bryant St. and Mike don't bother to go in and bug Charlie about when he'll have any results…" Lee took one look at Mike's reaction at the last comment and added, "His words not mine! He said late morning at the earliest."

Bill, and Lee walked down the hall, and exited the building. Steve leaned wearily against the wall while Mike laid out the game plan. "Steve, I'll head back now and try to make the phone calls, you wait for Charlie and Bill to finish up, then lock up and go home."

Steve was about to argue the point with Mike, but thought better of it with one look at Mike face. "Ok, ok, you win but what do you want to do about the locket, Mike? Do you want her to look at it tonight, or wait for a dental match first?"

Mike considered Steve's question. Either way was going to be traumatic, but maybe it was more merciful to let her verify it after they we're sure. _Give her one more night of hope, _Mike thought sadly. "Let's wait on that, Steve."

"One more thing," Steve said as Mike headed down the hall, "Call me as soon as you know what the Principal and Superintendent say, I'm supposed to be over here with Jeannie and Diane tomorrow." Being reminded that Jeannie was to be in the building tomorrow made it all the more important to Mike that Mission High remained shuttered for now.

ooooooooo

It was another hour before Charlie and Dale finished processing the Kiln Room. Steve helped them load the evidence and then set the alarm and locked the door. After they pulled out of the parking lot, he got into his car and sat silently for a few minutes while resting his forehead on his hands atop the steering wheel, trying to call up the energy to drive home. He glanced up. The full moon was brightly illuminating the school in cool silvery light. He was thinking about how handsome the building was and what a shame it would be if the city lost it, when he thought he saw movement in the tower. He half considered checking it out, but being tired and unarmed, thought better of it. He stared intently for a few minutes, but decided to chalk it up as a figment of his sleep deprived mind and drove home.

As Steve unlocked his apartment door, he heard the phone ring, he flung the door open and raced to pick up.

"Hello."

"Where the heck have you been?" Mike answered, tersely.

Steve began to explain, but then quit, hearing the timbre of Mike's voice. "What is it Mike?"

"Stupid, short-sited bureaucrats," Mike growled. "No sense of priorities."

"Do you want to tell me what happened before you have a stroke?" Steve said testily.

Taking a breath, Mike proceeded to describe his conversation with the San Francisco Superintendent of School, Dr. Michael Martirano. Curiously, he still had not been able to reach Mr. Pence. It seemed the good doctor had not seen any reason to keep the school closed, despite the fact that 2 classrooms had been vandalized, threatening notes left and human remains had been found in the building. This was no big surprise as he was all about the "Image" of the school district. He wanted to keep things as quiet and normal as possible, no need to worry the community or alert the press. The police had completed their investigation, nothing was going to happen in broad daylight, plus the Mission Bears' Boys Basketball team was on their way to another State Championship, and they needed the practice time. Steve's tired brain drifted, inappropriately amused, imagining Mike's reaction to that last statement and was surprised when there was dead air on the phone.

"What?" Steve said.

"Are you even listening?" Mike said in a huff.

"I heard, don't take it out on me Mike. So what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"Well, first I'm going to try and get ahold of Rudy and see if there is any way we can force the issue of closing the school. I am officially going on record that this is a bad idea to open tomorrow. If not…" Mike trailed off. He didn't want Jeannie, Diane or anyone in the building, but he was also not prepared to tell them that Mona Holtzbaur was presumed dead, without a firm identification. Jeannie was so strong willed, he would never get her to stay home from the project she felt so adamant about without good reason. As he ran the situation through his mind, he did not like the solution he came up with. Gathering his resolve, he knew he was about to ask Steve to do something that neither of them would be comfortable with."

Steve got impatient with Mike, and had the feeling he was not going to like what he heard.

"Buddy boy, I hate to ask you to do this, but I think…"

Steve cut him off, "I know what you're going to ask and NO, Mike I won't lie to Jeannie and Diane. _Please_, don't ask me to keep things from them. I just don't feel right about it." He could think of nothing that would be worse than masquerading a normal demeanor around the two girls.

"I don't feel right about it either, Mike said sympathetically, "but consider what could happen if no one was there to watch of them." Mike let that sink in. He hated this whole situation. Not only was Steve still technically on vacation, but Mike knew he was counting on Steve's protective tendency toward Jeannie to get him to play along. He saw no good way around this, short of posting armed guards in the building, and that was certainly not _keeping things as quiet and normal as possible_. "You don't have to keep up the façade for long, just till we get a positive ID. I promise I will head over there as soon as l get the word from Bernie, hopefully by mid-day. When I get there we can have Diane ID the locket, I won't let you do that alone."

"Ok, whatever," Steve said resigning himself to the untenable situation. "I'll be by to pick Jeannie up at 7:30, I want to get to the school before Diane does, but I have a question, Mike. "How are you going to keep this from Jeannie?" Of that, Mike had no idea.

Mike sat at his desk and closed his eyes breathing heavily. He felt really bad about what he had just asked Steve to do. Now well past ten, there was not much more he could accomplish tonight. The list of information he did not have grew longer by the hour. He needed a positive ID from Bernie. He had to wait on the lab. He needed files from the school and lists from the coaches, he needed to check with juvie for criminal records, and the lab had still not been to Mona's house. Frustrated, he tried to call Kirby Pence one final time, and still got no answer. He dialed the Captain's home number. For second time, he recounted his conversation with the Superintendent of Schools. While Rudy agreed with Mike that the school should be closed tomorrow, he had no power to do so.

"Mike, we'd have to get the Police Commissioner himself to make that call, and I don't want to get in the middle of a turf war between the Commissioner and the Superintendent, things are bad enough at City Hall as it is." Rudy understood Mike's apprehension, but in the end there was nothing he could do.

Mike drove home trying to decide how to keep the latest developments from Jeannie. She would want to know what was happening and wouldn't take silence for an answer. He wanted to tell her the truth. He knew she would be heartbroken at the passing of Mona Holtzbaur and sickened by the details of her demise. Mike hated to lie to anyone including Jeannie, even by omission, but until he had positive ID, the time was not right to share the sad news. Fortunately, for tonight, he was spared. When he got home, the housed was dark. On the counter in the kitchen was a dinner plate and a note: _Mike,_ _Decided to turn in early. Enjoy your dinner. Love, Jeannie._

_**A/N: Lest you think that the cover up by the superintendent is far-fetched, there was a brutal murder in the school that I teach at in the early 80's. That cover up makes my fictional superintendent look downright ethical.**_


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Thanks to all who have read and reviewed. I am trying to respond personally as time permits. A shout out to Nans, thanks for your reviews.**

**Now that I'm back to school after the holidays, I will make every attempt to update in a timely manner. The deception continues…**

Steve pulled up to Mike's uncharacteristically early at 7:20. He hadn't slept much and he looked it. The idea of spending the morning hiding a sad truth, interspaced with gruesome dreams of being cooked alive led to a restless night. Before he knocked on the door, he took a minute to collect himself, wondering how long he could keep up the act. He heard footsteps of someone coming down the inside stairs. _Showtime,_ he though with a grimace. Steve was greeted with a warm smile by Jeannie Stone. While she was concerned about what happen at the school the previous day, she was inwardly pleased that he would be spending his day off with her.

"Good Morning, Steve, you're early!" she said in surprise, "I'm going to need about 10 more minutes. Mike's in the kitchen, go get some coffee, you look like you could use it!"

He mumbled a greeting in return and did not meet her eyes. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and dashed back up the stairs. He could already feel a headache building behind his eyes.

Steve headed to the kitchen, grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at the table without greeting Mike.

"Silent treatment this morning, huh?" Mike teased, hoping to get a rise out of Steve, but he would not take the bait. Mike looked at his partner's weary eyes and knew it was going to be a long day for both of them. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Some," Steve lied. "Mike, I don't think I can do this," he added quietly.

Mike had expected this. "Listen, buddy boy, you know I would never ask you to do something like this if I had any other choice, but I need you keep my Jeannie safe. With you there, I won't have to worry about her and just maybe I can start putting some of these puzzle pieces together." Steve knew Mike hated this as much as he did, but he couldn't respond, silently staring into his coffee.

Just over 10 minutes later, Jeannie came into the unnaturally silent kitchen. "Who died in here?" she said sarcastically as Steve was reaching for his mug. Startled by her off-handed comment, he spilled the remaining contents of the mug. Mike gave him a sharp look as he jumped up to grab a towel. Jeannie looked from Steve to Mike and back again as she helped to mop up the spilled coffee.

"What's up you two?" She asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Nothing sweetheart," Mike answered with a smile. "It just the boy wonder over there being a klutz." Jeannie gave Mike a forced smile. _Yeah right,_ she thought but dropped it.

Steve rolled his eyes and tossed the sodden towel into the sink. "You about ready, Jeannie."

"Sure Steve, let me get my jacket and we are off. Bye, Mike," she said as she breezed out of the kitchen.

Mike looked at Steve and put a hand on his shoulder as he turned towards the front door. "Good Luck" he said in a whisper.

ooooooo

Jeannie and Steve pulled up to the school about ten minutes to eight. The lot was already half full once again, with student arriving for various practices. As they waited in the car, Jeannie chatted about what they were to accomplish that day. When Steve didn't respond, she looked at him questioningly. Before she could ask what was up, Diane rounded the corner and cut through the parking lot. He jumped out of the car with Jeannie at his heals.

Diane looked as tired as Steve felt. She greeted them without enthusiasm and made for the front door. They entered the office just as Mrs. Molen was turning on the lights.

"Well good morning, early birds. I expected you two," indicating Jeannie and Diane, "But to what do we owe the pleasure of your company, Inspector Keller?"

"Just thought I'd give the ladies a hand today," he said.

"Handsome and considerate? Ladies, I'd hang on to this one," Bri said with a wry smile. Steve blushed at the unexpected compliment. Jeannie grinned at Steve's obvious discomfort as Mrs. Molen playfully flirted with him. Even Diane's mood seemed to brighten. That lasted exactly as long as it took to walk down the hall and enter room A111.

Diane's face fell as she looked around the disaster that was her classroom. Directing her attention to Steve, she asked, "Even though I don't want to face this right now, how long before we can clean it up?"

"Well, the good news is that the lab guys actually came in last night, so we can start picking up any time." Steve responded.

Jeannie was surprised by that, being under the impression that they would not be in till later today. "Mike didn't mention that this morning, although we really didn't have much time to talk this morning."

_That's how he kept it from Jeannie,_ _avoidance. _Steve thought. Unfortunately, that was not an option at the moment. "Well I guess we have two choices," started Steve hoping that activity would avoid idle chatter and lessen the chance he would give something away. "We can pick the classrooms up first, or we can get on with whatever you had scheduled before this happened. Steve secretly wished Diane would choose to clean up first, that way he could avoid the ladies by volunteering to clean up Mona's room, while they tackled Diane's, at least till Mike turned up. _Really brave Keller_, he thought to himself

Diane responded immediately, "Let's go up and work in the tower. God knows if the building engineers is ever going to show and we really do need an extra set of hands to get that done. Then maybe we can tackle this mess after lunch.

That being decided, the trio grabbed their gear and headed up to the tower. Steve let Mrs. Molen know where they would be in case Mike showed up, sooner rather than later Steve hoped. Diane unlocked the door to the winding staircase that led to the top of the 127 foot tower. "Top to bottom or bottom to top?" Diane asked. When nobody answered, she started up the stairs. Jeannie and Steve looked at each other and followed her lead, trudging up the ten flights of stairs.

The view from observation level was spectacular and the cool morning breeze helped clear the tired fog that had settled in Steve's brain. He surreptitiously looked around for evidence that someone had been up here the previous night. He saw some rubbish and what appeared to be a blanket. Diane noted his interested and smiled, "Well done _Inspector_, you've discovered Mission's dirty little secret. Jeannie could probably tell you that this is where, um how should I say this, where our students come to, um get to know one another better."

Steve stared at Jeannie, who blushed a deep crimson. "Well, er, er, yeah I know about, er, but I never …" she sputtered.

Steve didn't let her off the hook, "Gee, maybe I should ask Mike…"

"Jeannie, swatted at him and admonished, "Don't you dare!"

Steve laughed out loud, suddenly glad he had resisted the urge to investigate the tower last night. With the tension broken for the time being, the rest of the morning was filled with mindless and repetitive tasks that, mercifully for Steve, left little room for off-topic conversation.

As the morning wore on, Jeannie kept glancing at Steve. When he had stretched up to hold the meter stick against a cornice for a photograph, she notices he was carrying his .38. She thought that it was an odd accessory for a morning in a high school. Now, she was sure something was up. The look that he and Mike had traded this morning at breakfast, the fact that Mike hadn't told her that they could clean up the classrooms, but mostly it was Steve's demeanor. Other than the laugh they had shared over Mission's version of "Lover's Lane", he had barely spoken or even smiled this morning, and when she inquired about it, he put it off as just being tired. _I've seen you tired Steve Keller, but this is something else, I just can't put my finger on it. _She thought.

As they finished up, Steve rubbed the back of his neck and tried to shake out some of his fatigue. He looked at his watch. It was going on 1 and there had been no sign of Mike. He inwardly cringed at the thought of a lunch of lies with the ladies. He was so tired he didn't see how he could pull it off. While he thought Diane was none the wiser, she just seemed sort of numb today and had barely made eye contact, he got the feeling that Jeannie was getting suspicious. More than once as they work he felt her eyes on him. As they came out of the tower door, they were flagged down by Bri Molen.

oooooooo

Mike's morning started out no better than the previous evening. First order of business was to try and contact Kirby Pence. He needed to update the principal and get access to the 2 student files. The phone rang 6 time before it was picked up. The voice on the other end, heavily accented in Spanish, was that of his housekeeper. She informed Mike that Senor Pence had gone out of town because of a family emergency. She gave Mike the contact number, which was a 602 area code, an Arizona exchange. He seemed to recall that Kirby's wife was from the Phoenix area. He dialed the number and after several rings, got an answering machine. He left a terse message.

On his desk was a message from Inspector Russell. It occurred to Mike that he hadn't seen him at the school the previous evening, even though he had indicated he would help with the site investigation. Mike hoped it was a sign of progress in the case. He decided to take a walk down to see Scott, and then to the lab.

Scott Russell was at his desk when Mike walked in. "Mike, I'm glad you came down. I think I might have something for you. After I talked to you last night, I got a call a call back from Terry over at The Division of Juvenile Justice. That's why I didn't make it over to the scene. I'd asked him about the two names I got from Mona's Discipline records. There's good news and bad news. Terry seemed to recall the names but not the details of the cases, so he did some digging. The good news is there is something there, the bad news is that the records are sealed."

Mike groaned. Getting juvenile records unsealed was a difficult task. Getting juvenile records unsealed on the Friday in between Christmas and New Year's Day was damn near impossible. "Scott can you give a call over to Judge …"

"I'm way ahead of you Mike, I already called Judge Andrews at Juvenile Court, and it's a no go. He's out till Wednesday the 2nd of January, we can't petition until then. Have you been able to get the discipline records from the school?"

"Also a dead end so far, I haven't been able to talk to the principal to get the records released," Mike replied.

"Anything from the lab yet, Mike?"

No, I'm headed down there right now. They may not have anything from last night, but I hope they have something from the initial scene. I'm still waiting on ID from Bernie as well."

As Mike enter the lab, Charlie looked up from the counter. "Mike, give me a break," he started, I don't have anything yet. The minute I have something to report, you'll be the first to know.

"What about from the other night?"

"No, Mike we have nothing beyond what the preliminary report indicated, hundreds of prints in the room, but only 4 sets on the plan book. One of which was that of the owner, Mona Holtzbaur. The other three sets are unidentified until we have something to compare them to…"

Mike had never seen a case with more roadblocks than this. Frustrated, he could think of only one thing left to do until the lab finished their job. "Charlie, answer me this, is there anybody available to process the suspected victim's home?" he ask with a note of exasperation in his voice.

Not about to say no to an agitated Mike Stone, Charlie freed up a tech to accompany Mike back to 20 Cumberland Street. They spent the balance of the morning going through Mona's home. Near midday, Mike noted activity next door as he locked up Mona's house. The Murray's it seemed were finally home. Mike knocked on the door. A small blond girl in a pink tutu, about 5 years old answered the door.

"Good morning, young lady, is your Mom or Dad home?" Mike asked as he smiled at girl.

"Who are you? I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." she answered, smiling shyly back.

"That's right, you shouldn't. My name is Lt Stone and I'm a police officer, he said, crouching down to her eye level and showing her his badge. I wanted to ask about your neighbor Miss Holtzbaur."

"Are you really a police officer?"

"Cross my heart, honey."

"Then it's ok to talk to you." She said seriously. "Miss Mona's really nice and reads me stories. Did you know she has a cat named Allie Kat; isn't that silly? She lets me play with her sometimes."

"I know, I have met Allie."

"Did you know that Miss Mona has a friend who's a giant?"

Mike was puzzled by the last remark, "A giant?"

"Yep, she has long red hair and wears funny clothes."

Mike finally got it, Diane he though. He chuckled, to a 5 year old, Diane would seem like a giant.

"What's your name sweetheart?"

"I'm Wendy."

"Well, Wendy, I'm very pleased to meet you. You can call me Mike. Can you tell me when you saw Miss Mona last?

"I don't remember, Mike, but I think it was before Santa came. After that we went and saw my Gran, she lives in the desert, she has a pool you know."

"That's great honey," he said sweetly, "can I talk to your mommy now?"

The little girl turned on her heels ran from the door. She came back with a harried looking woman that she introduced, "Mike, this is my mommy."

"Mrs. Murray, My name is Lt. Mike Stone, SFPD, I need to ask you a few questions about Miss Holtzbaur next door. Wendy tells me you haven't seen her since before Christmas, and then you've been out of town?"

Mrs. Murray seemed a little flustered and looked at her daughter wondering how much she had told Mike. She thought a minute and answered, "Yes, that's right I talked to her Thursday evening when she got home from school. She said she was going out of town and asked if my boys could feed Allie. I told her we were going to see my mom in Palm Springs. She thanked me anyhow and wishes me a Happy Christmas. Somebody stopped by Friday night, so I figured she found someone to take care of the cat."

Mike was surprised at this. "Did you see who it was?"

"No I didn't, I just heard the door slam in the evening, I don't even remember what time."

Mike addressed his next question to Wendy, who was holding onto her mom's leg. "Honey, did you see who went into feed Allie?"

"It was some guy," she giggles like she was sharing a secret, "I was supposed to be asleep, but I peeked out the windows."

"Thank you Wendy, that's very helpful." Mike said sincerely.

"Lt. Stone, has something happened to Miss Mona?" Mrs. Murray asked, suddenly alarmed.

oooooo

Mike finally got back to the office past 2, after grabbing lunch on the way. He hung up his coat and hat and checked for messages. Nothing yet from the lab or Bernie. He wondered how Steve was holding up. The later it got, the more guilt he felt about the position he had put the young man in. He could not imaging trying to fool Jeannie for all this time. _I hope you're a better actor than I think you are, buddy boy! _Mike decided to try Kirby Pence's Arizona contact number again, and still no answer. He slammed down the phone in annoyance.

Norm peeked his head in the office. "Mike, while you were on the phone, Bernie called from the morgue. He needs to see you."

Finally! Mike jumped up and took the stair down to the lab at a jog. He greeted Susan in the outer office, and proceeded into the autopsies suite. "Well, Bernie what's the word?"

Bernie looked up from the tray in front of him. It held human teeth arranged in two arched row. On the light board above the counter was a set of dental x-rays. "Well Mike, we had a little trouble getting her dental records since she had no next of kin, and you wanted this kept quiet, but Susan came up with the solution," he said cocking his head toward the outer office. "Her husband is a school teacher so she knew that school district employees have the same dental insurance as we do. She was able to charm the Dentist's name out of one of the clerks over at the insurance company."

Mike was impressed with her resourcefulness, but was more interested in the ID. "Is it Mona?"

"I'm afraid so, Mike."

_**A/N: It really bothered me to knock off Mona, I'd gotten kind of attached to her, but this being a murder mystery, somebody had to die. **_


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. The Fallout continues from Mona's Death.**_

Even though Mike was expecting it, his face still fell. "That's really too bad Bernie, she was a wonder lady. Is there any room for doubt?"

"No Mike, luckily for us, whoever did this did not account for the fact that the teeth would remain, along with any precious metal, even after an extended stay in the kiln. With the amount of dental work she had, the ID was pretty straight forward. Add that with the locket, once you get a positive ID on it, well…"

Bernie handed Mike his report, along with the evidence bag that held the locket.

"Has this already been dusted for prints?" Mike asked.

Bernie indicated that the lab had already processed the locket. Mike signed for the evidence and dropped the bag in his pocket. As he left the morgue, he made sure to commend Susan for resourcefulness.

Mike headed up to Rudy Olsen office. Rudy's secretary waved him in just as Rudy was shaking his head and hanging up the phone. "Mike, that was the School Superintendent, he wanted to know if there was any progress in the case."

"That's why I'm here Rudy, I just came from the morgue. We have a positive ID, the remains are that of Mona Holtzbaur."

"Damn shame." Rudy responded. "Do we know anything, Mike?"

"Honestly, Rudy not much. We are pretty sure she's been out of sight since Friday. She was intending to go out of town and there is no way to tell when she died, but I'm pretty sure she never left San Francisco. The neighbors saw an unidentified man at her house Friday evening. But even that is kind of shaky." Mike thought of the testimony of a 5 year old in a pink tutu. "We have a multitude of prints but unless we have something to compare them to, well they are pretty useless right now. There's the threating notes and two vandalized classrooms but the lab hasn't gotten to that evidence yet and we just processed her home this morning. The only lead we might have on suspects has hit a brick wall." Mike went on to explain the difficulty in obtaining the record for the two students, both through the school and the Juvenile Court. "On top of that I haven't been able to get ahold of the principal since Wednesday." Mike added.

Rudy listened as Mike explained the situation. He tiredly rubbed his eyes and began, "Mike, a progress report wasn't the only thing the School Superintendent had on his mind. He was adamant about keeping this investigation quiet, strictly a need to know operation. Needless to say, his office has a lot of clout at City Hall. A murder in a city high school, especially if students are suspected, is a story that no one from the mayor on down wants on the front page of _The Chronicle _or the 6 o'clock news."

Mike was angry, "WHAT ABOUT THE VICTIM, RUDY? How are we supposed to solve a murder if we can't operate in the open?"

"I don't know Mike, but we need to get it solved, the faster the better. If we don't make any progress before school reopens well, maybe we'll need to get someone on the inside, but I warn you this a powder keg. And Mike, if it gets out, none of us will escape the fall out."

Mike was not happy when he left Rudy's office. He felt like he was being asked to investigate a murder blindfolded and gagged, and he didn't like it one bit. He slipped his hand in his coat pocket touching the locket. On top of that, he now had to go inform a young woman that her best friend and mentor was dead.

ooooooooo

"I'm glad I caught you before I left," Mrs. Molen started as Steve, Diane and Jeannie came in the office. "I'm headed out. Practices have ended for the day and I'm getting a head start out of town for New Years. The custodians are here until 3pm. If you are going to be later than that, check in with them before they lock up. Inspector Keller, do you still have the main door keys and alarm code I gave you yesterday?"

Steve indicated that he did.

That tidbit really caught Jeannie's attention. Why on earth would Steve have the school keys? If she hadn't been suspicious before…

"One more thing Inspector Keller, "Bri said as she handed Steve a file folder, "Here are the team rosters. Mike said he needed to know who was in the building yesterday when the classrooms were trashed, so I took the liberty of getting them from the coaches when they signed in this morning. Oh, and Diane, I have a message for you as well," she said as she handed a pink slip of paper to Miss Bader. "Happy New Year! Hopefully, Mona will turn up soon! Diane I'll see you on the 2ndand Jeannie, Inspector, always a pleasure!" Mrs. Molen intoned as she slipped on her jacket and headed out the door.

Diane read the note, crumpled it up and shoved it in her pocket. "Jeannie, Steve, I need to run an errand for a bit. It's time to take a break, anyhow. I'll be back in about an hour, if you don't mind." She said without making eye contact.

Diane jogged down the hall to get her bag. Steve knew he was in trouble now. With just Jeannie and him, there was no way to avoid the questions that he already knew were coming. Diane reappeared and handed Jeannie her bag as she brushed past them toward the door. "See ya, later." She said without a backward glance.

Steve and Jeannie stood in the office in a silence that went on for an uncomfortable length of time. Steve could see the gathering storm cloud in her blue eyes. He broke the quiet, "You want to get something to eat, Jeannie?"

"Sure Steve," she said with an ersatz sweetness, "As soon as you tell me what the hell is going on!" She finished her statement with the patented "Stone Glare."

_Oh man_, he thought, _this is not going to go well!_

ooooooooooooooo

Mike made two stops before heading out to Mission High. He dropped by Inspector Russell's office. He thanked the Inspector for all his help, but as this was officially a homicide investigation, Scott's participation was ended. "I'll take care of closing out the missing persons report Mike," Inspector Russell stated sadly, "I'm sorry it ended this way. If there's anything else I can do, just let me know." He shook Mike's hand, gave him the case files, and wished him good luck.

Mike then headed for his office to check for messages. He was pleased to finally see a message from Kirby Pence. _Well it's about damn time, _he thought. Mike dialed the phone and after 3 rings was rewarded with a nervous hello from Principal Pence.

"Kirby, It's Mike. Where the hell have you been?"

Pence was started by the aggravation in Mike's voice. "Take it easy Mike, what's wrong?"

"We've been trying to get ahold of you for two days, Kirby!"

"Sorry, Mike. Karla's mother took ill the evening of the 26th, we had to drive to Phoenix to take care of her, I guess I should have let you know…"

"YOU GUESS YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME KNOW? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?"

"Not until you tell me, Mike."

Mike took a moment to breathe, confused by Pence's blasé attitude. "Kirby, Mona's dead."

There was no response on the other end of the line.

oooooooooo

Steve led Jeannie out the main door. He knew he was busted and didn't have a clue of what to say to her. He sat down heavily on the wall. The background headache that had been asserting itself all morning and exhaustion were not going to make this any easier. He nervously ran his hands through his hair as Jeannie sat beside him.

Jeannie looked into his green eyes. They looked tired and worried, and more than that, they looked sad. She knew he'd been less than honest with her and she was fully prepared to grill him for the truth. Instead, she gently touched the bruise around his right eye. "One day you're going to have to tell me about this." Was all she said, even though she was curious and annoyed at being kept in the dark.

Steve looked at her in amazement. He could not believe she was going to drop it there and that made the deception even worse. "Look Jeannie, there is something else going on, I just can't tell you." He took her hand in his and looked down his feet and spoke quietly, "I found something last night when I came back after dropping you off…" He couldn't continue, knowing that if he started, the whole story would come spilling out." Mike should be here soon, and then you'll know all of it."

Jeannie pulled back her hand and playfully punched him in the arm. "Mike's in on it too, hun? Wait till I get my hands on him." Steve smiled and stood up, pulling her along by the hand, "Let's go get something to eat."

oooooooo

"She's dead, Mike? How? When?"

"We don't know a lot yet, but Kirby we found her _in the school." _Mike proceeded to share Steve's gruesome find in the Art Room. "That's not all…" Mike continued but Pence cut him off.

"Isn't that enough, Mike?" He sputtered horrified.

"Just hear me out, Kirby. Mona's classroom and A111 were vandalized during the day yesterday. We found Mona's remains while we were looking into that. When I couldn't get you on the phone, the Captain contacted the Superintendent…"

Kirby cut in again, "YOU DID WHAT!"

"Listen Kirby, there was a MURDER in YOUR school. We couldn't find you. We were trying to keep the school shut today, to keep everyone safe. What did you expect me to do?

"Mike, you did more than shut the school today, you may have shut it for good." Pence said angrily.

"Well it if makes you feel any better, we didn't even manage to shut it today, the Superintendent wouldn't hear of it." Mike replied not bothering to keep the disdain from his voice."

The line remained briefly quiet.

"Where do we go from here, Mike?" Kirby Pence said in a resigned tone.

"Right now, I need one thing from you?"

"Name it."

"I need your permission to access discipline records on two students." Mike opened the file on his desk and read off the names of the two students, "Marc Walen and Mitchell Ballinger."

"You don't honestly think students are involved, do you Mike?"

"Until I get some more evidence, I don't know what to think, Kirby."

"Well, I suppose if you must…"

It was Mike's turn to cut in, "I MUST," he insisted.

Pence said he would call Bri Molen and have the files released. He then begged Mike to heed the Superintendents request for secrecy. Pence indicated he would be returning as soon as he could and would call when he got back in town.

Mike took off his glasses and closed his eyes briefly. He supposed it was time to bail Steve out of the situation he had unwillingly been placed in. He pulled out the locket and looked at it sadly. Now came one of the hardest things he had to do as a cop, go pull the rug out from under somebody's life.

oooooooooo

Jeannie and Steve were sitting on the wall, finishing up some take out when Diane walked across the parking lot. He noticed her downcast eyes and slumped posture as she came up to the door. With one look at her face, it was obvious that she had been crying. Steve knew in his heart that her day was only going to get worse. He thought back sadly to the conversation they had in the car yesterday. She was about to lose her best friend, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Feeling Steve's eyes on her, Diane wiped her eyes self-consciously, not wishing to reveal her upset. She dropped down on the wall next to them, closing her eyes and lifting her face to the afternoon sun.

"Have you eaten anything, Diane?" Jeannie asked. She was also aware of the grief written on the young woman's face.

"No, I'm not really hungry. How about if we get back to work?

They gathered up their things and headed back into the school.

"Choose you poison, folks. Which room do you want to tackle first?" Diane asked.

"Let's do yours first," Jeannie volunteered. With that they entered and silently began to undo the damage that had been done. Steve righted the furniture and dealt with the scattered paper while Jeannie and Diane tackled the graffiti and splattered paint. Steve kept glancing at the clock, as 3 o'clock came and went and still no Mike. He foolishly hoped that perhaps he was wrong and maybe, for Diane's sake, it wasn't Mona he had found.

He was roused from his day dream when someone rapped lightly on the door. The janitor who had rescued him yesterday peered in through the door.

"Well, lookey here, you guys have really been busy! Looks like it's almost back to normal"

"Hi, Mr. Fischer," Diane said in greeting to the Janitor. "Yeah, Jeannie and Steve have been a big help."

"How much longer are you folks going to be?"

"Oh, I don't know, I think we are going to tackle Mona's room next," Diane looked at Steve and Jeannie expectantly, "but you go on ahead, we will lock up when we're done."

"Well, that's very kind of you, but I can pick it up if you like," Clark Fischer offered.

The janitor's offer struck her as being rather odd. She knew Clark and Mona had clashed in the past over the condition of A112. She also knew what he said about Mona behind her back. "No, no it's ok. You know how fussy she can be." Diane's words stuck in throat and tears threatened to moisten her eyes when she thought about Mona.

"OK, then I will see you on the second Miss Bader, a Happy New Year to you!"

ooooooooo

Mike pulled the tan LTD up to the main entrance of Mission High. He pushed open the door and walked past the main office, which as darkened and locked. He could hear his footsteps echo along the empty corridor as he walked to room A111. Steve was pulling a large trash bin into the hall when he saw Mike. He walk quickly down to meet him. Mike just shook his head sadly.

"How do you want handle this Mike?" he asked.

"There's only one way to do it, buddy boy?"

When they walked back into the room, Jeannie was by the door, emptying a bucket into the sink. She took one look at Mike and Steve's faces and her breath caught in her throat. She knew at once what they had kept from her. She set the bucket down and walked past them into the hall. Leaning against the wall, she cried.

Diane was just finishing shelving the last of the books when she saw Steve and Mike coming toward her. Sat down on a stool and put her head in her hands. Mike pulled the locket from his pocket and took it out of the evidence bag. Steve put his hands on Diane's shoulders, she flinched at his touch, but then relaxed and looked up.

"Diane," Mike began softly, "Do you recognize this?"

Diane took the locket hanging from the chain in Mike's hand and brought it close to her face. She gently rubbed across the engraved "M" as tears dropped on the shiny platinum surface. Moisture dampened Steve eyes as he looked at Mike, waiting for Diane to respond.

"It's hers. I gave it to her for Christmas a few years ago. She never took it off." Diane opened the locket, expecting to find the small picture of Mona and her that had been taken that same Christmas. There was nothing left inside but ash. Diane dropped the locket and recoiled in horror. "What the hell happened to her?"

Diane closed her eyes, consumed by her own misery and grief. Mike bent down and picked up the locket, returning it to the evidence bag. He looked around for Jeannie. Concerned when he didn't see her, he caught Steve's attention. Steve mouthed he word "go."

Steve didn't know how long he stood steadying Diane as she quietly mourned her best friend. The details of Mona's death could wait. Diane eventually opened her eyes and with a stricken look asked Steve, "What do I do now?" It was more of a plea than a question.

Steve didn't have an answer for that, so he asked "Is there anyone I can call?"

Diane shook her head, "No, when things are tough I always call Mona…"

ooooooooooo

Mike found Jeannie in the hallway and gathered her into his arms, "I'm so sorry sweetheart."

"What happened, Mike?"

He explained as gently as he could the circumstances of Mona's Death.

"Oh, Daddy, that horrible. How could someone do something like that?" She said as tears again began to fall.

Mike gave Jeanie his handkerchief and said quietly, "I don't know Honey, but you can bet we're going to find out." Mike walked Jeannie out to the car and asked her to wait while he check on Diane. He came back into the classroom to find Steve and Diane exactly as he had left them.

When he saw Mike, Steve removed his hands from Diane's shoulders and walked over to the door

"How's Jeannie?" Steve asked. Mike shrugged and shook his head. "Take her home Mike, take care of your daughter. I'll make sure Diane gets home."

"Are you sure Steve? Is there anyone she can call?" It was Steve's turn to shake his head.

"I already asked her, she doesn't have anyone. It's ok Mike, I'll handle it."

Even though he wasn't convinced about the wisdom of leaving Steve to handle a grieving Diane, Mike turned and walked out to the car.

Steve looked back to Diane. She was just sitting with her head lowered, red hair cascading over her face. He picked up her bag and the file folder from Mrs. Molen off the desk. Crossing over to Diane, he gently touched her back and said, "How about if I get you home."

Diane said nothing on the drive to her place. Steve parked the car and opened the door for her. She mutely handed him her house keys. He unlocked the front door. Before she entered, he asked her, "Is there anything else I can do?"

"Yeah, Keller you can come in, I don't want to be alone tonight."


	12. Chapter 12

Steve woke up stretched-out on the couch with a start. It took him a minute to remember where he was. He looked around; Diane's apartment was somewhere between an art studio and a disaster area. He guessed the right term for her living space was "Bohemian." While he wasn't the neatest, he had asked her last night, half in jest, if the place had been ransacked. He was little embarrassed when her response was a roll of the eye. He looked at his watch, it was already 10 am. He stood up, displacing the large tabby cat that slept on his lap. He tried to stretch out the crick in his neck.

He had been taken aback when Diane asked him in last night. When it happened, in the back of his head he could hear Mike telling him it was a bad idea, that she was an emotional train wreck at best and a potential suspect at worst. He barely knew her and he was already worn out from a couple of sleepless nights. On the other hand, she was in pain. A pain he could understand, knowing how overwrought he would be at the loss of his best friend. In the end, empathy won out. He couldn't just dump her to deal with that on her own.

They had sat in silence. He was unsure what to do, hoping his presence was a comfort, as she processed her grief. He hadn't known what he'd expected; Tears? Sobbing? He had seen lots of responses to death, but He hadn't expected mind numbing silence. She told him to help himself to a beer in the fridge. He got one for both of them. The silence was like a living thing in the room, choking out all the oxygen. Allie Kat (as he found out she was called) came to his rescue, mewing for attention. Steve picked up the cat.

Finally the silence overwhelmed him and he began to talk. He talked about Berkeley (the alma mater they shared) He talked about his decision to become a cop. After another beer, he began to tell her about Mike. He expressed their friendship and love in a way he never had before. He talked of the family he had found with Mike and Jeannie. That's when her tears had started. He had gotten up off the couch to comfort her, but she held up her hand to stop him. He sat back down and rested his head in his hands as the depth of her sorrow threatening to drown him as well.

Diane had fallen asleep on the love seat about 5 am, he figured that he had drifted off shortly after that. He looked around and didn't see her. The bedroom door was shut so he assumed she had woken up at some point and gone to her room. He went into the bathroom and glanced in the mirror. He looked like hell. He tried to do some damage control with water and a comb and splashed cold water on his face, but nothing was going to help the bags under his eyes save for 8 hours of sleep. His black eye was now a rainbow of shades from purple to a delicate green. Allie Kat made her presence known with a yowl. Steve walked to the kitchen and fed the cat.

He looked around for a coffee pot, but the clutter all but prevented it. He went into the fridge and found a coke and headed back to the couch. Allie followed him, it seems he had a new friend. He sat drinking the coke, stroking the affectionate cat. He wondered how Jeannie was holding up and figured he better give Mike a call and let him know where he was. For some reason, he was anxious to hear Mike's voice. It was as if Diane's lose has magnified the importance of his connection to Mike.

He was about to pick up the phone when Diane slipped into the room.

"Is there another one of those in there?" She asked Steve pointing at his coke.

"I think so."

She padded into the kitchen, opened the fridge, then came back and flopped down on the couch next to him. She looked at least as rumpled as he did, her hair a tangled mess, skin pale and eyes puffy and red from crying. "Well, aren't we a pair, Keller. Please don't tell me I look as bad as you do." She teased with a wry smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Are you ok?" Steve asked, tentatively.

"No," Diane answered, her brief smile fading, "but I will be someday…"

Diane opened her coke, took a long drink and held the can to her forehead. She looked at her reflection in the glass coffee table. "You know some people look radiant when they cry, other's well… not so much." She put her soda on the table and attempted to wrangle her hair into a tail.

After taming her hair, she reached over and gently touched Steve's cheek. "Thank You." She whispered.

Steve looked away, momentarily embarrassed by her gratitude. "It's ok," he said and added quietly, "any time,"

They sat and drank in a comfortable silence. Steve was just finishing his coke when Diane stood, "Ugh, I need a shower. Join me?" she said casually.

oooooooooo

The night at the Stone residence had not been a peaceful one. Jeannie had cried herself out on the way home and shared a silent dinner with Mike. It was only after she went to bed that Mike regretted his decision to share the nature of Mona's death. He felt she deserved the whole truth after the way he had kept things from her, but when she had woken up the third time screaming, he thought he might have to re-evaluate his full disclosure policy.

Mike awoke at 9:00. It being Saturday and drained from the fitful night, he did not rise straight away, but laid back and wondered if Diane had made it through the night ok. He had seen Jeannie's grief at the death of Mona Holtzbaur, and shuddered to think of the depth of Diane's loss. He dialed Steve's number, but got no answer. He had a bad feeling something was not as it should be. _Where are you buddy boy?_ He thought_ and God help you if you've done anything foolish._

Mike showered and dressed. While he was waiting for the coffee to perk, Jeannie came into the kitchen in her pajama and dressing gown.

"How are you doing this morning, Sweetheart?"

"I'm ok, Mike," she lied, feeling a little rocky after a restless night." She poured two cups of coffee and sat them on the kitchen table. She sat down and faced Mike.

"It's been a long time since you had nightmares like that." Mike looked at his daughter, she seemed more like a little girl, afraid of the dark, than a grown woman this morning.

"Oh, Mike it was terrible, I just couldn't get the images of being burned alive out of my head. I'm glad you told me the truth, but how could anyone be so desperate and evil?

He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Desperate, yes this feels desperate to me, but evil, that's a pretty strong word. We won't know that until we figure out who, and why."

"Do you think they are going to have some kind of memorial for Miss Holtzbaur?" Jeannie asked after a few minutes.

"Not right now. For, the time being the school district wants this kept quiet. I don't even think they are going to acknowledge that's she dead." Mike responded wistfully. He did not like the fact that a lifetime of service could be dismissed so casually.

"What? Are they actually going to pretend nothing happened?" She said incredulously.

"The Principal and the Superintendent want this all handled hush-hush, no publicity at all. So, for the time being you can't repeat this to anyone."

Jeannie took a few minutes to digest the idea, "I can do that Mike, but how can you find out who killed her in the dark, Mike?"

"Jeannie, that's a question I can't answer until we do. And Jeannie, we will figure this out." Mike said this with a lot more confidence than he felt.

While they sat and finished their breakfast the phone rang. Mike got up and answered the phone while Jeannie picked cleared the table. When she looked through the door, she saw Mike grabbing his coat and hat. "It's Saturday Mike, I thought you were home today," she said not hiding the disappointment in her voice."

"That was Captain Olsen, I have to go in for just a little bit, no big deal. Are you going to be ok?"

She nodded that she would be and hugged her dad as he made for the door.

oooooooooooo

Mike swung by Steve's apartment on the way to Bryant Street and was disappointed when he didn't see his car out front. He looked in his notebook and found Diane's address. The call from Captain Olsen had not been as innocent as he had let on to Jeannie. He and Steve presence had been requested at a meeting to discuss the Holtzbaur case. Rudy understood that this was the last day of Steve's vacation, but asked Mike to ring him none the less. Mike pulled up at Diane's address and was a little disconcerted when he saw Steve's Porsche parked out front.


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: Just when I thought it was going to be a while before I could update because of RL commitments, The Muse smiled and gave me an unexpected gift of a SNOW DAY! (God's gift to teachers in the US) So in gratitude, a new chapter. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. Continued thanks for your interest and reviews. MBC**_

"It's no big deal Keller," Diane said with a laugh as Steve blushed and tried to mop the spilled soda off his shirt. To say her offer had been a surprise was an understatement. She patted his cheek and headed for the bathroom. "Well, since your answer is no, then maybe you can scrounge us up some breakfast." She added with a touch of disappointment.

"_Smooth, Steve, real smooth,_ he thought. He pulled off his soda sodden shirt and headed for the kitchen sink. Her proposition had caught him off guard. Under normal circumstances, he probably would have taken her up on her offer but there was nothing normal about this situation. He was tired, she was vulnerable and more than that, she was part of an active case. He had to admit he found her intriguingly free spirited but at this moment, it would have just been wrong.

He did his best to wash the remaining soda out of his shirt and laid it over the dish drainer. He opened the fridge, got some eggs and then found a skillet. While he puttered in the kitchen there was a knock at the door. A very familiar knock. _For the love of God, he must have radar or something_ Steve thought as he nervously ran his hand through his hair. _Even when I'm doing the right thing!_

"Can you get that," Diane called from the bathroom. As Steve went to the door, he heard the shower stop. Diane was just coming out of the bathroom in a very short bathrobe, displaying an ample amount of her six foot frame, when he unlocked the door and swung it open. Steve stood bare-chested staring directly into the glare of a very unhappy Mike Stone.

"It's not what you think, Mike!" Steve pleaded.

oooooooooo

When Rudy Olsen got an early Saturday morning phone call from the Police Commissioner, it was never a good thing. It generally meant politics was about to rear its ugly head. Seemed that his golf buddy, Alexander Walen, III, one of the corporate suits at Wells Fargo Bank, was wondering why the SFPD was interested in his son. Mr. Walen knew his son was no angel, but boys will be boys. Marc had his spot all set at UCLA to play basketball, and any mention of his youthful indiscretions could ruin his chance. Walen's lawyers had Marc's Juvenile records sealed when he turned 18 and he didn't like the sudden inquiries. As soon as the Commissioner had mentioned the H word, he knew he needed to get Mike Stone in the office, pronto.

Rudy thought about what Mike's reaction to this latest external pressure to his investigation would be and he shuddered. First the Superintendent of Schools, then the Police Commissioner. _Harassment my ass_, he thought wondering how Walen had been tipped off, for he knew that Mike had not even talked to the boy. Another mystery to solve, but he was sure that Walen's money and clout were involved. Rudy could only think of one discreet way to get the access they needed to the school and the suspects. Rudy dialed Mike's number and requested that he and Keller meet him at Bryant Street at 11:30.

ooooooooo

Mike glared from Steve to Diane and back again. Despite Steve protestation, the implication was clear.

"Get your clothes, hotshot," Mike said with a hard edge in his voice. "We have a meeting with Captain Olsen in 30 minutes and you need to get cleaned up."

Steve knew that tone well and knew he was in for it. He shook his head and said nothing. He went to the kitchen turned off the stove and collected his shirt.

"No matter what this looks like, Lt. Stone, nothing happened!" Diane said in Steve's defense. _And that was all because of Steve's good judgment, _she thought_. _She felt bad for Steve, she didn't think he was going to be able to talk Mike out of his suspicions. She also thought that anything more she would say would just make the situation worse. _Jeez, Mike was so much like Mona, her reaction would have been just the same._ The sudden thought of Mona gave her pause.

"Young lady, I suggest you put some clothes on," Mike replied tersely. Diane held her ground.

Steve came back in the room and slipped on his jacket, collected his keys and holster and walked to the door. "Diane, breakfast is on the stove."

"Steve, thanks for last night." Diane said. She knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as she had said it. Steve cringed. _Oh, this just gets better and better. I get to take the walk of shame, AND NOTHING HAPPENED._

After the last exchange, Mike had heard enough and angrily stormed out the door without another word.

"Call me if you need anything," Steve mouthed as he turned to leave, not wanting to give Mike any more ammunition.

"Good luck," Diane said quietly in return. _You're going to need it._

Steve fumble with his keys and walked toward his car. Mike turned around just long enough to say, "Leave it, we'll come back for it later."

oooooooo

They drove to Union Street in silence. Steve could feel the anger radiating off of Mike. He parked the LTD in front of his apartment.

"You have 10 minutes," Mike said without looking to Steve.

"I don't suppose you are ready for an explanation yet," Steve replied, his tone more sarcastic than he had intended. He thought better of it as soon and the words left his mouth.

"GO." Mike barked.

Steve opened the car door and escaped into the relative safety of his apartment. Not having time to shower, he did his best to wash up, dressed in a sport coat and tie and jogged back down the steps to confront Mike. He hoped Mike's ire had cooled a little while he changed. He looked at Mike sideways as he slid over to the passenger side. _No such luck_, he thought. Steve got in behind the wheel and waited for the explosion. He didn't have to wait long.

"WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING? OR SHOULD I ASK, WHAT PART OF YOUR ANATOMY WERE YOU THINKING WITH?"

"Nothing happened, Mike." Steve said calmly. While he had prepared for work, he had decide the best course of action was full disclosure and weather the storm.

"YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE THAT? YOU WERE BOTH HALF DRESSED AND YOU WERE MAKING HER BREAKFAST!"

"We had a few beers." Steve said_, he actually wanted to respond, get your mind out of the gutter. _Stray thoughts did not help his composure.

"_THANKS FOR LAST NIGHT!?_"

"We talked all night, I fell asleep on the couch."

"THAT'S THE BEST YOU CAN DO?

"I spilled a soda on my shirt, it was laying in the kitchen drying," Steve decided it best to leave out the reason he spilled the soda.

"DON'T YOU HAVE ANY SENSE OF PROPRIETY OR INTEGRITY?"

Steve's calm faded, so much for weathering the storm. He'd had enough of Mike's tirade. He knew Mike didn't really mean to question his integrity, but that didn't stop him from shouting back, "MIKE, SHE WAS IN PAIN. YOU SAW HER REACTION AT THE SCHOOL. SHE'D JUST LOST HER BEST FRIEND. SHE NEEDED A SHOULDER TO CRY ON AND I WAS THERE FOR HER. GOD, I HOPE IF I EVER LOST YOU, his voice faltered a little, "THAT THERE WOULD BE SOMEONE TO UNDERSTAND AND BE THERE LIKE THAT FOR ME. DON'T YOU TRUST ME?"

Steve's last words brought Mike up short.

Mike did trust him. He was one of the only people in the world he trusted completely. Could it be that it was just an innocent misunderstanding? Maybe, but he wasn't quite ready to let him off the hook just yet. "We are not finished with this." Mike said quietly.

Sensing a change in his partner's tone, Steve grinned and pressed his luck, "You know Mike, It is the 70's, men and women can just be compassionate friends, you know."

"Why, I ought to … DRIVE!" Mike smiled as he took a swipe at the back of Steve's head.

Steve ducked, took a deep breath and started the car. They drove to Bryant Street in silence.

ooooooo

Kirby Pence caught an early direct flight and got back into town from Arizona about 9am. What a nightmare. A murder in his school with students suspected. He did not think his tenure as principal or the school could survive this. Walen and Ballinger, the dynamic duo. They had been a pain in his behind for 4 years. If Walen's father hadn't had the money and lawyers he did, he would have expelled the little prince and his pal 4 years ago, after the first incident. He didn't know why the elder Walen's protection extended to the Ballinger boy as well. He thought that it was probably just another attempt to keep Marc's name clear. They were always in trouble together and had the Juvenile records to prove it.

He wasn't unsympathetic to Walen's attempt to protect the boys. They were both 18. If their latest indiscretion, the one that Mona had observed and reported, kept them out of college, they would be drafted shortly after graduation. Alexander Walen III had already indicated he would not protect the boys from doing their duty to their country. A trip to Viet Nam was something that Kirby Pence wished to spare as many of his graduates as possible. He really didn't know what course to take, but in the end, he decided to come clean to Mike about the boys.

When Mr. Pence got back to his house, he tried to call Mike Stone. Jeannie answered the phone and said Mike had left for a meeting with Captain Olsen at Bryant Street. He decided that he needed to visit Mike in person. He got to the precinct at about 11:25 and asked the desk sergeant if Mike was there.

oooooooooo

Mike and Steve enter Bryant Street a few minutes after Kirby Pence. Mike noticed the principal at the desk and waved him over.

"You got back in a hurry," Mike said in greeting as he shook Kirby's hand.

Kirby returned Mike greeting, telling him about the early flight. "I have to take care of my school and my job," He said and added sadly, "while I still have it."

Mike introduced Steve to the principal as they walked up to Rudy's office.

"Do you mind waiting out here for a bit? Then we can go up to my office."

"No problem, Mike."

Steve knocked on the door, and Captain Olsen called the two detectives in his office. Mike and Steve took seats and the Captain reviewed his morning conversation with the Commissioner. As he expected, Mike bristled at the outside pressure being exerted on the investigation.

"Rudy, what do they expect us to do? Between the Commissioner, the Superintendent and now this Walen character and his lawyers, we are handcuffed."

"Well, on that subject I have an idea," Rudy said looking over at Keller, "But Mike, you're not going to like it."

Mike also looked at Steve, who shrugged his shoulders, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Mike had a feeling he knew exactly where Rudy was going with this and he was already sure he didn't like the idea.

"We have to get somebody inside the school," Rudy began. "And I think our college boy here is the perfect candidate."

"Hold it right there, Rudy. You know how I feel about undercover operations."

"I know Mike, you have been very vocal over the years on the subject, but what are our alternatives?"

"Whoa, you want me to go in as what, _school teacher?" _Steve chimed in now onto the thread of the conversation. "Do you think we can even get permission to do that? I'm not exactly qualified. Visions of dealing with a classroom of teens made him grimace."

"Now wait a minute, Rudy I don't think that's a good…"

Rudy cut in, ignoring Mike's objections. "In this case, you are best option we have, Steve. You're familiar with the case and we know they have a position available. Does anybody over there know you're a cop?"

"Stop right there, Rudy, there has got to be another way." Mike asserted again.

"No, Mike, hang on, this might the only way we can access the kids without alerting Walen and his lawyers." Steve said, warming to the idea. "Mr. Pence, Mrs. Molen and Diane are the only people know I'm a cop. I'm sure we can trust their discretion. Plus, I can keep an eye on her. That note painted on her wall was not exactly warm and fuzzy." He addressed his next comment to the Captain, "We have the principal sitting right outside the office."

At the mention of Diane's name and Steve keeping an eye on her, Mike was positive this was an extraordinarily bad idea. After this morning's incident, he thought the last thing Steve needed to do was spend any more time with Diane Bader. For the time being, he kept his thought to himself.

Rudy got up and called Kirby Pence into the office. "Mr. Pence, I'm Captain Rudy Olsen." He said in introduction. He proceeded to lay out his idea for putting Steve in the school.

"I don't know," Kirby replied after contemplating the idea for a few minutes. "I do like the idea of having young Steve here in the school. It would make me feel a whole lot better from a safety standpoint and it certainly would give him free rein to look around and talk to students without raising a lot of red flags. Plus, he seems like bright young man, Berkeley grad correct?" Steve nodded.

Pence continued. "He's a cop, I should think he'd be able to handle a classroom full of teenagers and Mona, God rest her soul, taught current events, so as long as you've read a newspaper in the past couple of years you should be fine. In fact, she was so prepared, I'll bet she has lesson plans ready for the whole month of January." The more he talked, it seemed, the better the idea sounded to him. "It will take a couple of days to get the paperwork straightened out. If we don't go through official hiring channels, it is certain to raise some eyebrows. The students come back the second of January. At the earliest, we could get him in on January fourth I think. Until then, we could have him observe various teachers, so he can get the lay of the land so to speak."

Kirby turned to Mike, "What do you think?"

Mike had listened to Rudy and to Steve and to Kirby Pence. He still didn't like the idea, too much could go horribly wrong on undercover assignments. And the way Mona's remains had been disposed of gave him serious doubts, but he had to admit, it might be the only way to get the information they needed to figure this mystery out.

"Well, as much as I dislike the idea, if we haven't made any progress by the fourth, Mike said deliberately, "I don't think we'll have much choice but to proceed."

It seemed Steve was headed back to school.

_**A/N: Well, we've at long last circled around to the beginning. If you have followed along, you may have noticed that I tightened up the time frame a touch to improve the flow of the story. The prologue has been altered to reflect that change. A rookie mistake, I apologize if it affects your enjoyment of the tale. MBC**_


	14. Chapter 14

The previous days had been a blur. After meeting with the captain, Mike, Kirby Pence and he had gone back to Mike's office to plan the operation inside Mission High. Barring a break in the case, which at this point on the weekend between Christmas and New Year's appeared unlikely, Steve would report to the School district headquarters to complete an application on Monday morning. It was decided that he would use his real name, as the availability of a genuine background check and college transcripts would make the process easier. With real information, fewer people needed to be brought into the loop and the fewer people that knew, the more effect the operation would be. As principal, Mr. Pence could grease the skids and get the paperwork expedited so that Steve could start on the fourth of January. Because Mike was on the alumni committee and well known to the students and staff, he could easily drop in for updates (and to keep a watchful eye on Steve) without much risk.

The discussions got slightly tense when the subject of Steve carrying his .38 came up. Despite the gruesome nature of Mona's death Mr. Pence was adamant, he wanted no firearms on his campus. Mike went toe to toe with the Principal, but in the end, against his better judgment, relented at Steve's insistence. Kirby Pence agreed to meet Mike and Steve at the school on Monday afternoon to pull the discipline records for the only two real suspects they had.

After Pence had departed, Mike drove Steve back to Diane's to pick up his car in silence. He pulled the Tan LTD up to the curb and turned off the engine. Steve was afraid that Mike was going to revisit their loud discussion from earlier in the day. As he tried to open the door, Mike put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Are you sure about this, buddy boy?" He hated the thought of Steve being on his own, even in the relative safety of a crowded High School.

"Yes, Mom, I can handle it."

Mike ignored the jibe, "I know you can handle it, that's not what I asked."

"What, Mike?"

Mike didn't quite know how to express what he was thinking. He paused a few minutes trying to put into words the concerns he had over this assignment. "I know you, Steve. You always try to see the good in everybody, especially in kids. Mike thought back to the incident with the Davies boy and how it had shaken Steve to the core. "Something really horrible happened here, and I want you to recognize that one or more of these "kids" could be a cold blooded killer. I need you to promise me that you won't let your guard down, just because they look young and innocent."

Steve was touched by Mike's fatherly concern. He also understood himself well enough to recognize that his blind spot where kids were concerned could be a real danger. But he also knew he had to get justice for Mona.

Steve smiled and put his hand on top of Mike's. "It'll be ok, Mike."

"Do me one more favor, hotshot," Mike said with twinkle in his eye, "For my sake, don't get distracted by any redheads. I'm too old to be training a new partner!"

oooooooooo

With the paperwork dispatched, Steve met Mike and Kirby at Mission High on Monday afternoon. With the building deserted, there was no risk of Steve's identity being compromised. Kirby unlocked the door to the inner office, proceeded to the file cabinet and undid the lock. To his surprise, when he pulled the folders for Walen and Ballinger, they were empty.

"What the hell?" he said to no one in particular.

"What Kirby?" Mike asked, concerned.

"We have a problem, Mike. Someone has removed the files."

"What do you mean, they're empty? I thought the files were secure? Mikes mind raced. Most of the roadblocks in the case to date, other than Walen and his Lawyers, had been procedural, passive. This on the other hand, smacked of an active conspiracy to interfere with the investigation. He made a mental note to have the file cabinet checked for prints.

Steve too, was concerned with the missing records, "Mr, Pence how many people have access to the file?"

Pence thought for a moment. "There are three sets of keys for the files, I have one, the guidance department has one and there is one that stays in main office, for the use of the Assistant Principals."

"So basically too many people," Steve said disappointedly looking over at Mike who was also not happy.

"Tell me Kirby," Mike interjected, "Is it possible there is another copy of the records somewhere?"

Pence considered that, "Maybe. This is the form for discipline referrals," said the Principal, picking a form up from the top of the cabinet. It a 4 part form. Top white copy goes in the file, Yellow copy gets mailed to the parent, the blue goes to the student, as you'd expect, they mostly get thrown out. The final pink copy is returned to the referring teacher."

Steve and Mike looked at each other. "Bingo. I think we know what our vandals were looking for when they ransacked Mona's room." Mike said. "We just need to find out if our suspects were in the building that day."

Steve thought back to Friday and the envelope from Mrs. Molen, which lay forgotten on the front seat of his car. "I don't think that will be a problem, Mike, we already have the team lists."

Mike looked at him sideways, Steve mouthed "Later" before continuing. "But why toss Diane's room?"

"That's a good question buddy boy. I wish we had a good answer."

"Ok, Kirby. We don't have any paper, but give us something, you must know what was in the file." Mike said looking at Mr. Pence pointedly.

"Let's have a seat in the conference room."

After they were settled, Kirby Pence began, "Now fellows, without the supporting paperwork, this is all just hearsay, but Marc Walen and Mitchell Ballinger have been busy boys here at Mission High, and I don't mean making the honor roll." He went on to detail their "illustrious" career at Mission, which covered plenty on minor mischief and insubordination, but also included selling and smoking grass; their Juvenile record, Mike assumed. "We've always known that they were getting away with three time as much as they've been busted for. Mona was particularly good at seeing through their All-American boy routine. I think she wrote them up more than anybody. Of late, we were pretty sure they had graduated to selling speed and downers, and finally Mona caught them the last day of the term."

"Hold on right there, Kirby, why weren't the police called in right away on this?" Mike asked with rising agitation.

"Listen Mike, that's not how we handle things in the school. We do our own internal investigation, and then call in the cops if and when we need to. They're kids Mike, and then there is Alexander Walen III."

Kirby went quite briefly, sadly realizing that his inaction might have cost Mona her life. He took deep breath and continued, "The other issue is both these boys have recently turned 18."

At the last statement, Steve thought he understood what was going on. "Mr. Pence, let me ask you something. Have both these boys been accepted to college?"

Kirby looked at Steve, knowing the young detective had reasoned out the bigger issue. "Yes, they have. Both at UCLA, both on athletic prowess, not academic merit. Neither really had the grades to get into college."

"They'll be drafted?" Steve asked quietly.

"Yes, both 1A. They would have been in Viet Nam by September."

"So let me get this straight, you delayed reporting a crime to keep kids from getting drafted?" Mike asked incredulously. "Wouldn't Walen's father been able to use his clout to protect his son?"

"It's not that simple, Mike. Considering their past, the smallest rumor would have kept those kids out of college. We just wanted to be sure before we proceeded. Add to that, for some reason, the elder Walen decided to develop a parental backbone and refused to protect Marc, and by extension Mitchell, from the draft." The three men sat in silence. While they all had their own personal view on the war, sending young men into that situation was not to be taken lightly.

Finally, Kirby spoke. "It's all moot now that the records and Mona are gone, there is no proof."

Mike and Steve walked out to the parking lot. Steve reached into the front seat of his car and pulled out a manila envelope and handed it to Mike.

"What's this?" He asked.

"It's the team rosters. It'll tell us who was in the building on Thursday when the rooms were vandalized. Mrs. Molen gave them to me of Friday, but with all that went on, I sorta forgot all about them." Mike gave Steve a "where was your head at" stare and slipped the papers from the envelope, splitting the stack between them. It was quick enough to figure out that both Walen and Ballinger had been in the building.

They stood leaning against the car, contemplating their next move. Mike spoke first, "Why don't you go in and take another look through Mona's room, it needs to be picked up for the first day of term at any rate. Now that we know what we are looking for, well, maybe we can avoid this whole undercover scenario." Mike looked at his watch, "I'll head to lab and see I can catch anybody there before they head out to celebrate New Year's Eve."

As Steve was walking back to the school, Mike called after him. "After that go home. You are coming over tomorrow for pork and sour kraut? I think you're going to need all the luck you can get on this one."

Steve had forgotten about the Stone's New Year's Day good luck dinner. While he hated cabbage, who was he to argue with old world traditions? Before he entered the building, he called back," "Mike, when you're at the lab, see if they will release Mona's Plan book. If I'm really going to do this, It'd be nice to have some idea what I'm supposed to teach."

Neither Mike nor Steve had much luck in what remained of that last day of the year. When Mike got back to Bryant Street, the lab was deserted. He went up to his office, checked his messages and called it a day.

Upon entering the building, Steve took out his keys and walked down to a112. He was surprised when he entered the room and turned on the light. Someone had made a hasty attempt to straighten up. Binders and books were haphazardly returned to their shelves and the rest of the papers had been scooped up and piled on Mona's desk. Steve spent the next hour sorting through the various papers, but found no trace of the missing pink carbon copies. In the end, he neatly stacked the papers in one of the desk drawers and straightened the binders and book without really looking at them, so that the room would be tidy enough to begin the term on the Second of January. Turning out the light, he departed the building.

oooooooooo

Steve was terrified. He originally thought facing a room full of teenagers would not present much of a challenge. He was wrong. Two days observing the pros at Mission High had given him a healthy respect for the longtime staff members. High school, he thought, from the teachers' perspective was akin to herding cats. It seemed that anything could happen at any minute and the relative calm of the building was just an illusion. He felt ill prepared and ill at ease. He grabbed his brief case, got out of his car and made the long walk to the main office through a gauntlet of students. A murmur of conversation followed his path, especially amongst the young ladies.

He had managed to keep a very low profile during his two days of observation. Slipping in after the school day began, and moving from classroom to classroom during class time rather than between classes. He also observied the students' comings and goings from the seclusion of the tower, but he couldn't hide today. It was, as Mr. Pence had put it, _showtime. _

Showtime indeed, complete with makeup. Mike and Steve had told Jeannie about the undercover plans after dinner on New Year's Day. After she finished laughing at the thought of Steve as a high school teacher, she, to his horror, had insisted on some camouflage for his still healing black eye. One less thing for the kids to talk about, her stated reason. "They are going to _love_ you." She crooned, thinking back to her own reaction to Steve when she was a teenager. Mike had weighed in, with mock sincerity in his voice, that the shiner made the baby-faced detective look a little tougher, much to Steve's dismay. If the boys at Bryant Street got wind of this latest humiliation, he would never hear the end of it. He had ultimately submitted to Jeannie's deft hand and now was essentially bruise free.

There had been some good news from the lab in the interim. Upon comparing the prints from the various scenes they had found several in common. One set had reappeared at Mona's house. All three had been found multiple times in Diane and Mona's classroom and one of those sets had been found on the kiln itself. Unfortunately, they had nothing to compare the prints against. Two of Steve's many jobs at Mission was to surreptitiously get prints from Walen and Ballinger, and try to figure out the identity of the mysterious third suspect. They had also confirmed Steve suspicions about the brown fabric scrap, it was indeed from an athletic style warm up suit.

Upon arriving in the main office, he acknowledged the staff with a nervous smile and checked his mail box in the staff room. Mrs. Molen winked as she greeted him with a hearty "Welcome aboard!" He left the office and started down the hall. As if he was not apprehensive enough, the murmurs and stares continued, making Steve feel very self-conscious. Diane stood in front of her classroom chatting with some student until she caught sight of him with classroom keys and a briefcase, and openly gaped.

Worried about her state of mind, Steve had tried to contact her, repeatedly calling and ultimately banging on her apartment door, but she was unresponsive. She'd taken leave on the 2nd and 3rd, he assumed to get her head together, so she was not at the brief after school meeting to announce Mona's "retirement" and to introduce the newest faculty member. Excusing himself to the students and before she could say anything, he took her by the hand and gently steered her into the quiet of A112.

"What the hell's going on Keller?" She asked as he shut the door.

_**A/N: The procedure with filing discipline records is accurate. Before computers, the white master of the record would have been the only permanent copy. The draft was still in place in the United States during the stories timeframe. I am of German/Slavic ancestry and as my husband is Croatian. Pork and Sour Kraut is eaten on New Year's Day for luck by a lot of cultures in that part of the world and is a nod to Karl Malden's proud heritage. Thanks for your continued interest in my little story.**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**A/N: Thanks for your continued interest and reviews. I hope you are having as much fun with the story as I am. MBC **_

"Diane, keep it down," Steve admonished. "I tried to let you know what was going on, but you weren't around. Where have you been?"

Diane ignored him and rephrased her original question, "What are you doing here Steve?"

Steve looked up at the clock. He really needed to talk to Diane, there was so much about Mona's death she still didn't know, but he didn't want to lay that truth on her at 7:30 in the morning. He also knew that in 30 minutes he was going to be facing a roomful of teens and needed to mentally prepare for what would be a very stressful day. He decided on the CliffsNotes version of the truth for the time being. "Please, for right now, let's just say I'm here to figure out what happened to Mona. I'll tell you all about it when we both have the time. You, Mrs. Molen and Mr. Pence are the only ones here who know I'm a cop, and we need to keep it that way."

As Diane digested his response, Steve inclined his head to the students who were not so subtly peeking in the window of the classroom door. "You better go for now before our friends out there get any more curious. I'm supposed to be new here."

Diane stared at him. Looking over at the closed door and ogling students, she knew she has to get out of the classroom or the rumor mill would be up and running before 8 am. While it was ok if they were seen talking in public, private conversations behind closed doors always attracted unwanted student speculation. She smiled at him as she turned to leave, "Later, Mr. Keller."

Steve sat down at his desk and opened his brief case. He pulled out Mona's plan book flipping to the section for today's lesson. Thankfully, Mona had been a highly organized teacher and most of today would involve a test on materials she had covered before the holiday. The test were copied and piled neatly on the corner of his desk. He looked down at his hands, they still bore a slight purple haze from his close encounter with the mimeo machine the day before. Thank God Bri Molen had come to the rescue, or he would still be there fussing at the crazy machine. He looked at the clock, feeling slightly nauseous. _Get over it Keller_, he thought, _How bad can it be?_ He took a deep breath, checked his seating chart one last time and got up to stand outside his door. Hall Duty, as the veteran teachers had called it, the most volatile part of the day.

At 10 till 8, the first bell rang and Diane came out of her classroom. She crossed the hall and stood next to Steve by his door. It was something that all teachers did every day. The last chance to talk to an adult before entering the breach, so to speak. She had done the same thing every day for 10 school years, chatting with Mona... It brought her up a little short to be reminded of what she had lost. She looked at Steve. He had no idea what he was in for and he looked a bit nervous.

"Welcome to the jungle, Mr. Keller. You are looking a little green." she said sympathetically as the students streamed and bunched down the hall. Steve smirked, the double entendre not lost on him. Diane proceeded to give Steve a running commentary, identifying various students and groupings as they crowded along. Steve chuckled to himself as he was vaguely reminded of Marlin Perkins' narration on "Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom." The crowd in the hall thinned down and his classroom filled up as the clock inched closer to 8:00. When the bell rang she wished him luck, crossed the hall and disappeared into her classroom. Steve entered his room and closed the door.

ooooooooo

Mike was busy having his own adventure in the chambers of Judge Andrews of the Juvenile Court. While he was sure Walen and Ballinger were guilty of something, he wasn't convinced of their involvement in the murder of Mona Holtzbaur. It just didn't feel right. They were, unfortunately, the only real suspects he had at this point.

The missing discipline files from the school were also problematic. Without them, he only had hearsay about their latest transgression. Try as he might, the judge could see no reason to unseal their files and no amount of Stone charm could convince him otherwise. Mike looked at his watch, and wondered how Steve was making out on his "first day of school." He felt bad that he couldn't be of more help, but the answers were in the school, and right now Steve was the only one who could find them.

Having struck out at Juvenile Justice, Mike went back to Bryant Street. He grabbed a cup of coffee and sat down at his desk. It occurred to him that if the dynamic duo, as Pence had called them, had graduated into more than just pot, George Drew down in Narcotics may have picked something up on his radar. Too restless to sit in his office, Mike finished his coffee and headed to the Narcotics division.

George Drew was another one of the new, young bright lights of the SFPD. His youthful appearance and knowledge of the streets made him an invaluable asset in policing the drug trade in San Francisco. Mike walked into the squad room and was pleased to see George at his desk. He was just hanging up the phone as Mike approached.

"Lt. Stone, it's been a while, Happy New Year. I assume this isn't a social call. What can I do for you?"

"It's Mike," he reminded the young detective, and shook his hand. "and yes, there might be something you can do for me." Mike then proceeded to give George a run down what was going on at Mission High. "With Steve on the inside, anything you can give me will be extremely helpful."

"Mission High, Mission High…" George said absent-mindedly as he opened a file drawer and after searching for a bit, pulled out a large folder. "Seems I heard something about some new players down there recently. What were the kids' names again?"

oooooooo

Steve cleared his throat and tried to get the attention of the chattering class. He waited patiently until everyone looked up and began, "Good morning, everyone. I'm Mr. Keller. I'll be teaching this class for the time being. Since I'm new here, I'll be relying on your help until I'm a little better acquainted with Mission High."

"I'll be _happy_ to help you any way I can, especially to get better acquainted!" a pretty blonde replied suggestively. One of the boys let out a wolf whistle as the rest of the class laughed.

Slightly taken aback, Steve waited in silence for the class to settle. _Keep your cool, Steve, they're just kid_s he reminded himself. After a few more deep breathes he proceeded to take attendance. Picking up the tests papers he spoke again, "I hate to do this to you on my first day, but Miss Holtzbaur left this test for you..." There was a collective groan from the students. The rest of the class passed without incident as Steve walked about the room, watching the students scribble answers on their papers. He felt himself getting a little warm, unnerved by the invasive stares of several young ladies in the class. He blushed slightly under their unwelcome attention. Fortunately, the bell rang and he collected the tests. The students departed noisily and there was a fair amount of giggling while the remaining young ladies straggled out of the room. He decide that giggling should probably be illegal.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of faces and names. As required, he popped out into the hall between each class. It helped him get a feel for the normal flow and tone of the building. Diane too, came out of her room between each class, continuing her informative and amusing commentary on the denizens of Mission High. Steve checked his roster. He would not see his two suspects until the next to the last period of the day.

It was past noon before the parade of classes paused for a well-earned break. He could not believe how tired he was. He grabbed his lunch and headed out the door. Seeing Diane, he hastened his steps, catching up to her at the edge of the main lobby. As they walked the remaining distance toward the staff lunch room, which was adjacent to the student cafeteria, he heard the pitch of the hallway din change dramatically. "Fight!" she said as she sped up to the knot of students that was forming on the far side of the lobby. He hurried after her.

As a police officer, Steve had broken up many a fight, but he was in no way prepared when he split through the crowd of students, to be faced with a pair of 15 year old girls. Diane had made a move to the smaller of the two girls, coming at her from behind, wrapping her in a bear hug and pinning her arms. She was still struggling but the move was particularly effective at neutralizing the combatant with minimal risk of injury. Steve attempted a similar tactic, all the while concerned about his hand placement on the young lady and the amount of force he used. His gentle approach cost him. When he tried to control her arms, she bucked her head back, smacking against his face. As blood poured from his nose, he abandoned his restraint, grabbed her by the shoulder and pinned her against the wall at arms-length.

By this point, several other staff members had broken through the circle of students and began to clear the hall. Kimmie and Nikki were frog marched to the office as the bell rang for the beginning of the period. Steve was leaning against the wall, his hand over his nose, which did nothing to stem the flow of blood that was now leaking onto his shirt. Diane stood next to him, her hands shaking slightly from adrenaline. She bent over and picked up her lunch bag, which had fallen to the floor. She grabbed a paper napkin from the bag and handed it to Steve.

"Some fun, eh?" she said as she began to recover her composure.

Steve held the napkin to his nose while he looked around for his own lunch bag, "Does that happen often?"

"No, not so much, you're just lucky I guess, first day and you've broken up your first fight. Hopefully, you haven't also broken your nose," Diane said with a roll of the eyes. She spied his lunch bag in the middle of the lobby. Picking it up, she retrieved more paper napkins and handed them to Steve. "Why where you so careful with her?"

"She's just a kid, Diane. I didn't want to hurt her." Steve said sheepishly, now truly embarrassed by the whole situation.

"Rookie mistake, Keller. Most of them are as strong as you are, and when girls fight, well, let's just say if you can avoid it, never try to break up a cat fight again. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

"So much for keeping a low profile, this will be all over the school by the end of the day." Steve said ruefully.

"No, doubt about it, Steve. You now have your own chapter in the mythology of Mission High." Diane said as they walked back down the hall to the nurse's office.

oooooooo

"Walen and Ballinger," Mike repeated to George Drew. He flipped through the notes in the file for a few more minutes until he came onto something that interested him.

"Yeah, Mike, I have their names right here. Mostly small potatoes, but of late, it seems they have hooked up with a major player and a much bigger operation. We've seen a lot more action around the school lately, especially speed and some hints that there is heroin involved as well. We haven't been able to get much on them, apparently Walen's old man is a real barracuda."

Mike shook his head, "You got that right, we didn't even talk to the kid and the police commissioner was all over it. Seems he's Walen's golf buddy. That's one of the reasons Keller went in, we had to find a way to get to the kid without his old man's interference. Do you know who the third player is?"

George consider that for a moment. "Not really, but we would love to get a handle on the situation. I hate to see that junk in the High School. You know Mike, with Steve on the inside, he will be in a position to get a lot more on them. This could really work out well for the both of us."

_Finally, this was starting to make some sense, _Mike thought. _But what has Steve gotten himself into?_

_**A/N: For the youngsters, (Gawd, I must be old. I don't believe I have to explain this! But my husband insisted I clarify these points.) A mimeo machine is ancient reproduction technology. It was used extensively in schools until the advent of cheap copiers. It printed in an aromatic purple ink from a carbon style master.**_

_**Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom was a period US TV show (think of a primitive version of animal planet.) Its host was Marlin Perkins who did cheesy voice overs.**_

_**CliffsNotes were black and yellow bound **_study guide _**pamphlets in the US that students used to avoid reading things like "Moby Dick" and "A Tale of Two Cities" I think they still exist on line.**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing, Steve's rocky first day continues.**_

The good news for Steve was that, while it was quite painful, his nose did not appear to be broken. The bad news was that now instead of one mostly healed black eye, he was fairly certain that tomorrow he would look like a raccoon. He dreaded meeting Mike at the end of the day and explaining how a 15 year old girl got the best of him.

Instead of snooping around the halls as he had intended, Steve spent the balance of his lunch period in the health room in the company of an ice pack, a doting school nurse and a couple of aspirin. Diane, as art teacher and the self-appointed queen of stain removal, worked her magic on his shirt and tie, his jacket being a lost cause for the time being. He was more or less ready for duty by the beginning of the next period. Steve walked back to his classroom and took his position in the hall feeling a little bit worse for the wear.

As the students filed into the classroom he noticed the conspicuous absence of Messer's Walen and Ballinger. The bell rang and he closed the door and began class. A good 5 minutes later, the two boys opened the door and sauntered into class.

"Can I help you gentlemen," Steve asked in his most non-threatening tone.

"You, Keller?" Marc Walen said with derision in his voice.

"Yes, I am **Mr.** Keller," Steve replied with emphasis. "And you gentlemen, are late. Please wait outside while I get the class started and I'll be happy to talk to you privately." The last thing he wanted was a confrontation with the two students he most needed to observe. Steve continued to distribute the tests, handing one to each students, ignoring the two tardy teens. While he was not a seasoned teacher, he was a smart enough cop to know that the easiest way to prevent a scene with any alpha male was to separate him from the herd. Walen and Ballinger, having not gotten the reaction out of Steve that they had hoped for, shrugged at each other and walked out the door.

Once the class had begun their work, Steve went to the door and straddled the opening, watching the class and the two young men in the hall simultaneously. He felt the dull ache of his bruised nose and face and he was in no mood to deal with posturing teens.

"Gentlemen," Steve smiled and began in an even tone. "I don't know you and you don't know me, but let's get something straight. You will come to class on time and you will treat me the respect I'm due as teacher in this school. If you can't do that, we can take it up with your administrator or I will take it up with your coaches, your choice. Now go find your seat and get busy."

Not waiting for a response, Steve walked back into the room. His heart was beating a mile a minute. Exhibiting calm in these kind of situations was not easy for him. He hoped his performance had been convincing. Pulling rank on kids was not his style and he hadn't wanted to humiliate the young men in front of their peers, but he did have to let them know who was in charge. Eventually the two students entered the classroom. As Steve sat at his desk he could feel the angry stares of Marc Walen, but for now nothing more came of the confrontation.

Steve collected the test papers with extra care, making sure no one handled the papers except him. One of his missions at Mission was to get fingerprints from the two suspects. Paper was not the best surface for prints but Charlie in the lab had been having good luck soaking the paper in Ninhydrin to get adequate prints for comparison. It was time consuming, taking up to 48 hours to develop, but under the circumstances, the test papers were the cleanest sample Steve could get. He slipped the tests into a folder and into the top drawer of his desk.

When the bell rang and the students left the room, Steve breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he had just about made it through the first day. After today, he felt that teaching teens could be just as much of a high wire act as policing, though usually not as dangerous. With so many personalities in a confined space, you really couldn't predict what would happen from one minute to the next. He winced as he rubbed his hand across his eyes. The fight in the hall had demonstrated that fact painfully.

He followed the students into the hall and continued along, trying to keep Walen and Ballinger in sight, without being obvious. His last period of the day was designated for "planning" which meant he was free to wander the building. He would have to plan out what to teach on Monday later.

When Walen and Ballinger hit the main lobby, one went left, one went right and he had to make a choice. He opted to follow Walen. The halls were still quite crowded, so Steve had ample camouflage. Walen turned left, toward the back of the building and met up with Melony, the forward blonde from first period. Upon meeting, they stole quick kiss and began to talk in hushed tones. The late bell rang and the hall emptied. Steve looked around for some kind of cover and saw the library at the end of the hall. He passed Marc and Melony with a purposeful stride and headed for the library, as if had been his original destination.

He entered, pulling the door in behind him and pausing. He turned around to see where the two students had gone. Curiously they did not head into a classroom, but continued up the hallway and exited the building via a side door.

oooooooo

Mike thanked Inspector Drew for his input and left the Narcotics division. Before heading up to his office, he stopped at the lab, intending to check to see if Charlie had gotten anything off the office file cabinet.

"Mike," Charlie greeted as he came through the door, "You must have been reading my mind. I was just going to call you. We finished up with the file cabinet and we've got another match. There were a lot of prints to be sure, but the third set of prints from the plan book are definitely on the file cabinet. Plus we've identified the residue in the kiln room sink."

"Well, don't leave me in suspense, Charlie, What do you have?" Mike asked with growing curiosity.

Charlie paused, relishing the drama of the situation, "It's is quite the cocktail to be sure." he started dramatically. Mike was losing patience with the quirky scientist.

"There was blood for sure, it was B negative, which is consistent with our victim. Also, there is cleaning solution - general purpose cleaner like Lysol, but most of it was white talc clay."

"Charlie, correct me if I'm wrong, but it's a pottery studio, wouldn't you expect to find clay in the sink?"

"Not in that quantity, Mike. Anybody who knew anything about clay wouldn't put that much of it in the sink, it would wreck the plumbing."

"What are your thinking, Charlie?"

"If I had to guess, I would say that the sludge in the sink was the remains of the murder weapon."

Mike wasn't sure if he followed, so he pressed Charlie for more information. Charlie continued, "More than likely, Mona was hit with a dry slab of clay or with a greenware vessel, that's clay before it's fired. If you then put it in the sink and ran water on it, poof, the evidence washes down the drain. In this case however, your perp must have been in a hurry, and didn't finish the job."

Mike was happy to be getting some concrete information on the murder. It seemed as if things were finally lining up in this case. He was anxious to check in with Steve and bring him up to date. He hoped that Steve had been able to get the finger prints they needed. They had decided to meet up for dinner in Sausalito, across the Golden Gate. You could never be too careful of prying eyes during an undercover operation.

ooooooo

Steve stepped out of the library and walked back down the hall. He first checked out the window, and not seeing the two teens, opened the door and went outside. The door opened onto a narrow alley between two sections of the building. Steve quietly walked to the edge of the alley and peered left and the right into the parking lot. They were nowhere in sight. Steve considered checking through the parking lot, but thought better of it. He was torn. If he caught the two students out in the lot doing something illegal, _or immoral_, he thought with a cringe, he would have no choice but to follow the discipline policy of the school and write them up. It also would raise Walen's suspicions if he followed them out to the lot after being seen the in hall. Mostly thought, it wouldn't help him figure out what was going on if one of his prime suspect was suspended from school for something simple, like cutting class. He took another quick look around the lot and walked back into the building.

When he arrived back as his classroom, Steve was surprised to see a custodian already in there cleaning up. He entered the door loudly to catch his attention. The custodian startled none the less and turned to Steve.

"You scared the stuffings out of me!" Clark Fischer exclaimed at Steve's sudden appearance in the room.

"Sorry about that, I'm kind of surprised you're already in here, I thought you waited until after school to clean up. Let me introduce myself, I'm Steve Keller, the new History teacher."

"Well, pleased to meet you. I was surprised when Mona finally walked away, I thought she'd stay till she died."

_You don't know how true that is,_ Steve thought to himself.

Say, aren't you the young fella I ran into with the trash bin last week?"

"Yeah, that would be me," Steve admitted sheepishly.

"Sorry about that. Welcome aboard, Mr. Keller. Always good to have fresh new faces around here. I didn't realize you were a teacher. I'm Clark Fischer. Anything I can do for you, just let me know."

"I do have one question," Steve started. "Do you normally clean up this end of the building?" He already knew the answer, but he wanted to engage him in casual conversation to get more information.

"Yes, yes I do. A Hall, main office, history rooms and art rooms. That's why I try to get in here early, the art rooms are usually a disaster at the end of the day and you know, Mona was really particular about this room. She would scrub the desks herself at the end of the week."

"That is real dedication. By the way, Last week, after the problem in here, did you pick up?"

"Yes I did. I know you, Miss Bader and the other young woman said you'd take care of it, but when you left all of a sudden, I thought I'd help out."

"That was really nice of you, I thought I was going to have to come in and clean up before I started."

"Like I said Mr. Keller, anything I can do to help out."

_**A/N: I hope no one checks my web searches of late, I'm sure I'll be put on some kind of psycho killer watch list if they do. LOL According to Interpol, Ninhydrin was developed in the 1950's and was one of the only completely reliable ways of lifting detailed latent finger prints from paper in the early 70's. It could take up to 24-48 hours to get a usable print. Other methods were developed during the late 1970's and 1980's, but Ninhydrin is still widely used today in a spray form.**_


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: The plot thickens as evidence begins to build in the case. Readers and reviewers: thanks for your continued support. ****EKWTSM9 ****this is posted early, just for you.**

**30 minutes earlier…**

Marc and Melony snuck out the side door and walked to the end of the alley. They dashed across the parking lot until they got to the safety of the baseball field on the far right side of the lot. Just before they slipped into the dugout, Marc spied the new teacher peering around the edge of the alley. What the hell was his problem, anyway, didn't Keller know who he was? He'd had to listen to Mel blab on about this hot new teacher all day and he had dared to send Marc into the hall. Now when he and Mel were finally alone, there he was spying on them. Surprisingly, he saw Keller turn and walk back into the building.

Marc spun to Melony and grabbed her around the waist. "I've been waiting for this all day," he said as he backed her against the wall of the dugout and slipped his hand under her shirt.

"Me too, Baby," she said coyly as she wrapped herself around him.

"We only have 45 minutes, Mel, I have to leave for the game at 3:00."

He suggestively whisper something in her ear and she laughed and kissed him. He continued, "Then I have something _else_ you can do for me…"

ooooooooooo

Steve sat down at his desk. He opened Mona's plan book and looked at the lesson notes for Monday. She referenced material from the dated binders in the classroom. Steve glanced over at the book shelf. Although all the binders had been put back up, they had taken a beating when the room was vandalized. At this point, he saw no other alternative but to properly organized and shelve the material. It was a daunting job, and there was still so much he needed to check out in the school.

Not feeling up to sorting and filing, he decided to go to the office instead and check into inspecting student lockers. When he entered the principal's outer office he was greeted by the ever smiling Bri Molen. "Mr. Keller, I hear you've had an interesting day." She started, staring slightly at his battered face. "Looks like you're going to have a couple of new shiners by morning."

Steve shrugged the comment off, "Just part of the job I guess."

"Over and above I would say Mr. Keller," Bri responded sympathetically.

"I don't know if you are the right person to ask, but what can you tell me about student lockers."

"Ah, right to the point I see. Righty O. They are re-keyed every year, and then reassigned on the first day of school. We have a master list, so if you tell me the student's name, we can look up the number and the combination."

"Can we legally search the lockers?"

"Yep, no problem, they are technically owned by the school, so the Principal or Assistant Principal or the police with school ok can legally open them at any time. Teachers can only open them if the Principal is present. YOU could open them without Mr. Pence, but to keep your cover…" she said with a wink, "You should have the Principal present."

"Is Mr Pence in?"

"Fraid not, he's already gone for the weekend."

_Damn_, thought Steve, he really wanted to get a look in the lockers. "One more question, do some students have more than one locker?"

"Sure do."

"Most have a gym locker and if they play sports, they have a locker in the team room, same thing with the band."

"Do we have access to them as well?"

"Same rules apply, but the gym teachers and the coaches have the other lists."

_Great_, thought Steve, he had three contacts and six lockers that he had to look at before the students found out. It was starting to sound like a late night. "How late is the building open tonight?"

"Let me check the master schedule," said Mrs. Molen pulling out a binder.

"The basketball team has an away game and will return about 10. There's a wrestling match that goes until 9 or so." After that, pretty much the students are gone. The Custodians are here every night till 11."

Steve considered his next move. He really didn't want to wait on the lockers.

"What about tomorrow - Saturday?"

"Let's see," she said as she flipped the page. "All the winter teams practice, oh and we're giving SAT's as well, so the building will be open until 1pm or so."

"Thanks," Steve said. "Last question, I promise. How about those locker numbers?"

Bri gave Steve the numbers he needed. She also drew him a quick map to help him find the location. Just as he arrived back at his room, the dismissal bell rang and students streamed from the building. If he hurried, he might be able to get the other information he needed before the coaches and gym teacher left the building. He was attempting to leave the classroom when he was accosted by two bubbly girls he recognized from his third period.

"Hey, Mr Keller, can we ask you something," the cute redhead asked.

"Sure, it's Rona, isn't it?" Steve answered.

"Yeah, um, well, Mr. Keller," she started in a breathless giggle, "I don't know if you saw the signs in the halls, but there's a Faculty/Senior basketball game on Monday Night. Mr. Marx had to drop out and, ah, well we hoped you could take his place?"

_Basketball_, _no, no, no, _Steve thought. "Oh, I don't know ladies I'm not much of a…."

Marg, the brunette cut in, flashing a big smile, "Pleasssssse, It's a fund raiser for the prom. If we don't get another teacher, we might have to cancel."

Steve really didn't want to have anything to do with it, but the girls continued their full court press, "It's ok if you don't play well, it's just for fun. The senior class would really appreciate it!" Both girls stood smiling sweetly, all but daring Steve to say no.

In the end, He didn't have the heart to turn them down. Defeated, Steve answered, "Well, ok I guess, if you don't have anybody else. What time?"

"6:00, Monday Night. Gee, thanks Mr. Keller, You're the best!" The girls chimed as they dashed out of the room, nearly running over Diane in the doorway. They met up with a blonde in the hall and made for the main entrance.

Steve was already regretting his decision when Diane asked, "What did the Bobbsey twins want?"

"They asked me to play in the Faculty Basketball game on Monday."

"You didn't say YES, did you?"

"Well, I kinda did, why?" Now Steve was getting concerned.

She rolled her eyes, "Do you know what the faculty calls that game?"

"No, what?" He was afraid to hear the answer.

"We call it the _Payback Game_."

"Do I want to know why they call it that?" Steve asked, even though he had a pretty good idea what the answer was.

"Probably not." Diane replied, "But, come to think of it, they don't even really know you, so they might take it easy on you…" She didn't sound too convincing.

"Swell," he said, running his hand through his hair and looking at the clock. As much as he wanted to talk to her, he still needed to get to the gym before the end of the day. "Hey, I need to run and talk to the gym teacher about lockers before he leaves, are you going to be around a while?"

"Sure, about a half hour, what's up?"

"Great, I'll be back in a bit. Then you can tell me all about the _Payback Game_."

Diane turned and went back across the hall and Steve headed toward the gym. He was surprised at how many students were still in the building. He entered the gym just as the wrestling team was pulling out the mats for the meet that evening. He saw Mitchell Ballinger leaning against the bleachers eyeing him up suspiciously.

"Anybody seen Mr. Settle?" He asked no one in particular. One of the boys pointed to the locker room and Steve proceeded through the door. The first thing that caught his attention was the smell. It had been a long time since he had been in a high school locker room, but there was no mistaking Eau du Adolescent. He found the office, but the lights were off and it was locked up tight. Disappointed, he left. In retrospect, he decided it was probably for the best. It would have been mighty suspicious if the new history teacher was asking about students' gym lockers and team room lockers as well. He would have to wait for Mr. Pence to follow that up on Monday.

The basketball team was departing the team room as Steve turned to head back down the A hall. They we dressed in matching dark brown warm-ups, all except Whalen, he noted, who sported a coat and tie. He pulled the slip of paper from his pocket that held the locker numbers and combination for Walen and Ballinger. With the two of them safely occupied, he decided to check out the lockers.

He walked to the main staircase. Using the hand drawn map that Mrs. Molen gave him, he took the stairs two at a time and turned left at the top. He was pleased that the 2nd floor was deserted. He found Ballinger's locker and entered the combination. He really didn't know what to expect, but it wasn't this. The locker was completely empty. _What the hell? _He thought back to jumble that his own High School locker had been and decided that either Ballinger didn't use it or it had recently been cleaned out. The door clanged shut as he slammed it in frustration. "One down," he said to no one and he followed the hallway to Walen's locker.

Again, he was happy as he turned the corner that no one was around. He found Walen's locker and opened it. Empty. One empty locker he could believe, but two stretched the realm of possibility. Steve went back down stairs, a little uneasy. How could those lockers have gotten cleaned out so fast? More importantly, had his identity already been compromised?

Steve decided he needed to check one more thing, and headed to the back of the school, past the shop rooms. Determined not to get lost again, he carefully tracked the left and right turns and found the c wing. He left the building and made his way out to the dumpsters behind the school. _If somebody cleaned out the lockers today, maybe I'll find some evidence of it back here,_ he thought. He check out the mostly empty parking lot to make sure he wasn't being observed.

He flipped open the lid and took a cursory look. The dumpster was over filled. Short of climbing in and rooting around, something he was loath to do, nothing jumped out at him. Most of the waste appeared to have come from the cafeteria. As he was flipping the lid closed, he noticed something snagged on the inside of the lid. He let the lid drop open toward the back and walked around to take a look. He was surprised to see a dark brown warm-up jacket. He wondered if this should be photographed and retrieved by the crime lab, but that really wasn't an option. He pulled it off the lid and laid it flat on the ground, it was stiff and stained. There was a small swatch of fabric missing on the front side by the zipper, suspiciously like the piece he'd found caught in the kiln lid. Even more importantly, the underside of the gold collar bore a fingerprint that, to Steve's eye, appeared to have been transferred in blood.

Steve carefully folded the jacket with the stains to the inside and carried it back to his classroom. He took one of the new trash bin liners that had been conveniently replace by the helpful janitor and put the jacket inside. He sat the jacket on the side of his desk and looked at his watch. It was going on 4:00. He wondered if Diane was still around when he saw a hastily scribble note on the blotter:

_Steve,_

_I waited as long as I could, but I gotta get out of here._

_ Give me a call, Diane_

Steve leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, the dull ache behind his eyes was growing and he was suddenly very weary. He still needed to get the binders in order and retrieve the information for lessons on Monday. In addition, there was a large stack of test papers that needed to be graded. Opening his eyes, he checked his watch again out of habit. His meeting with Mike was at 5:00 and the traffic at that hour over the bridge would be a nightmare. He looked up at the binders and decide they could wait until tomorrow. Shoving the manila folder with Walen and Ballinger's test papers and the plastic bag with the jacket into his briefcase, he pulled his bloodied sport coat from the back of his chair, turned off the lights, locked the door and headed out to his car.

ooooooooooo

Unfortunately, Steve had been spot on about the traffic. He grabbed the evidence and entered the restaurant at ten past five. As he approached the hostess, he caught sight of Mike silhouetted against a large picture window that looked back over the Bay to San Francisco. Steve smiled. Leave to Mike, ever the romantic about his city, to pick a spot like this for a meet. When he came closer to the table, he noticed, to his horror, that Mike wasn't alone.


	18. Chapter 18

_**A/N: To anyone who is still reading, thanks. Now, some dinner conversation. Keep following the clues! **_

Why the hell had Mike brought her along tonight, of all nights? Not that he minded her company, he rather enjoyed it but they were supposed to be talking shop. He did notice that Mike had selected a secluded booth, at least they'd be able to talk without being overheard. Steve ducked into the bathroom to at least freshen up a bit and take stock of the damage. He knew it was vain, but he didn't want Jeannie, or Mike for that matter, to fuss (or laugh) at him. He splashed some water on his face and looked in the mirror. Diane had done a credible job on his shirt and tie, but he wasn't up to his usual sartorial standards by this point in the day. His nose was red and swollen at the bridge and there were the very beginnings of new bruises under both eyes. In the dim light of the restaurant, maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't notice. _Yeah_, he thought, _and maybe the Giants would move back to New York. _He probably should just fess up and get it over with. He sighed and exited the restroom.

Pasting a smile on his face, he slid into the booth next to Jeannie and bumped her shoulder affectionately. "So what's the occasion, I thought this was a business dinner?"

"I was dying to know how your first day went! Plus, I really needed to get out of the house and this is one of my favorite places, so Mike offered to bring me along." Jeannie blurted. "Scouts honor, I won't repeat a word I hear tonight." She added solemnly, holding up her right hand.

Mike looked sideways at his daughter.

"Mike offered?" Steve asked with raised eyebrows, which was a mistake. He brought his hand to his face to cover an involuntary wince. He was pretty sure that was not how things had gone down. Mike had a very hard time saying no to his daughter. "Why don't I believe you?"

Jeannie laughed in response, knowing she had been busted. "So, how was your day?"

So far so good, it seemed he was fooling Jeannie. "Well it was interesting. Honestly, I think teachers aren't paid enough." He slid the two parcels over the table to Mike. "These need to go to lab. By the way, nice place, Mike." Steve said casually.

Mike had not said a word to this point, but merely stared at Steve.

"What?" Steve asked returning Mike's stare with a cheeky grin.

Steve was saved by the waitress, who came over for drink orders and to distribute menus. Mike slid the manila folder and plastic bag to the bench next to him. After she departed, Mike resumed his stare and quietly repeated Jeannie's question, "So how was your day?"

Jeannie looked at the expression on Mike's face and then looked over at Steve. "Am I missing something here?"

Steve stalled and opened the menu and pretended to look at the options. Knowing full well that he hadn't fooled Mike, he decided full disclosure was his only entrée choice.

The waitress dropped off their drinks, beer for Steve and Mike, iced tea for Jeannie. Steve took a deep drink, screwed up his courage and began. "Well everything was going fine until I went to lunch. There was a disturbance in the lobby and well, when Diane and I broke through the crowd, there were, eh, um, two students in a physical altercation and we um, had to separate them." He took another drink, fully intending to leave it right there.

"And…" Mike prompted, stifling a grin." Understanding Steve as well as he did, he knew where this was going, plus Mrs. Molen had already give him a heads up, but he was kind of enjoying the young man's discomfort.

Steve peered into Mike's eyes with a pleading, _Do I have to continue?_ look. He was never going to live this down.

"Well, um Diane got the one student and I tried to, um, restrain the other and, um, she kinda bucked her head and got me across the nose."

"And, how old was _she?" _Mike asked, barely containing his laughter.

"15," Steve replied sheepishly.

"So, let me get this straight, hotshot. You let a 15 year old girl get the drop on you?" Mike sputtered amid peals of laughter."

"Ah, Mike can you give him a break." Jeannie managed before dissolving into laughter as well.

"You already knew, didn't you?" Steve deduced with a huff. Mike shook his head as he continued to laugh.

Despite his wounded pride and nose, Steve had to admit, the whole situation seemed extremely funny to him right now. He began to laugh as well, while trying to explain himself. "Mike, I mean, I just didn't know where to, uh, put my, uh hands..." He couldn't go on. The last statement having brought fresh guffaws to trio.

After a few minutes, Mike wiped his eyes and finally regain his composure. "Leave it to you, buddy boy. I'm going to have to file that little tale away for a rainy day!" Mike said tapping a finger to the side of his head.

Steve rolled his eyes at his mentor and winced as a fresh wave of pain traced across his face and nose.

"Seriously Steve, are you ok?" Mike finally asked with concern.

"I'm fine, Mike. The school nurse said it's not broken. It'll just be sore and black and blue for a while."

Jeannie looked carefully at his nose and face, brushing the blooming bruise lightly with her fingertips, "I don't think any amount of makeup is going to cover that, this time." She said with a grin, excusing herself to fix her own makeup.

Mike got down to the business at hand. "What's in the parcels, Steve?" Mike asked.

"The folder has test papers, one for Ballinger, one for Walen. Their names are on the papers and they were the only ones who touched them, except for me. I know it will take 48 hours to raise the prints, but we should then be able to get a comparison on Monday, Tuesday at the latest."

Mike was pleased, the prints should help clear up a lot of things. Mike shared his adventure with the judge, his conversation with Inspector Drew, and finally the lab results.

"So, we have more matching prints on the file cabinet in the office and at Mona's house." Steve recapped, "and a dissolving murder weapon, huh, that's a new one." Steve marveled, "and Charlie's pretty sure about the blood?"

"Yes it's consistent with the victim's type and it's definitely female. The only question is: If she was killed in the pottery studio, why was she in there?"

"That's a question I might be able to answer. You said they found all purpose cleaner in the sink, right?" Steve didn't wait for confirmation but continued, "The custodian told me that Mona scrubbed the desks every Friday before she left. She probably used the utility sink to dump the water, I can confirm that with Diane on Monday."

Mike nodded. "What do you think about Whalen and Ballinger?" Mike asked Steve.

"Well, I've only encountered them once, and I just don't get a murdering, hardened-criminal vibe. Preening teenagers, sure. Annoying as hell, definitely. Criminal masterminds, I don't see it. Drew was sure about them being involved in selling the hard stuff?"

"He sure seemed to be and he said there was someone else involved, someone big." Mike changed gears, "Did you get a chance to look for the referral carbons?"

"Not yet, but that's on my list for Monday."

Steve was thinking over what still needed to be done when Jeannie came back from the ladies room. Mike pulled the package containing the jacket onto the table. "What's the story with this?" Mike asked.

Steve told him the story of the lockers, and his discovery at the dumpster. Mike was troubled by the empty lockers. "Did anybody know you were looking up their locker information other than Mrs. Molen?"

"Not as far as I know, and I checked them less than an hour after I got the combinations." As he answered, Steve vaguely recalled mentioning it Diane.

Mike didn't like that turn of events, "Steve, you're sure no one's made you?" Mike hadn't liked the undercover assignment from the beginning and mysterious coincidence did nothing for his peace of mind.

"Pretty sure." Steve responded with more confidence than he felt.

Jeannie looked at the jacket. "I've saw one of these, the first morning I was at school. There were two kids hanging outside of A112. When Diane chased them, they were really rude. They both had warm ups on and they said they were going to practice."

"What'd they look like, Jeannie?" Mike asked. Jeannie described the two students.

"What do you think, Steve? Does that sound like Ballinger and Walen?"

"It sure does." Steve replied.

Mike looked at the jacket, "Jeannie are you sure it was a jacket like this?"

"I'm pretty sure, Mike."

"It doesn't make sense. If one of the kids had the jacket on after Christmas, how did a piece of it wind up caught in the kiln a week before?" Mike mused out loud wondering if this new piece of evidence called their timeline into question.

"I don't, know, Mike, but when I saw Walen with the team today, he was the only one who didn't have a warm up suit on. Let's hope Charlie can get something with this blood, once he photographs the print and rehydrates the sample."

Mike slipped the jacket back on the seat as the waitress brought their dinners. Setting business aside, they tucked into dinner.

"So, Steve other than breaking up cat fights, what did you think of you first day teaching?" Jeannie asked.

"I really only gave tests today, the real deal comes on Monday. I need to go in tomorrow and organize Mona's binders to get the material I need for Monday."

"What are you covering?"

Steve was suddenly very enthusiastic, "Well, you had Miss Holtzbaur, her plans are really interesting. She has the kids comparing news event in ten year chunks, so they will, be looking at current events related to events from 1942, 1952 and 1962. I need to find those binders to pull the news articles to compare to current newspapers."

Mike perked up at the mention of the dates. "You know, I seem to recall seeing those binders at Mona's house. They were laying on the table as if she was working on the assignments at home." Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a key ring. He took off a key and handed it to Steve. "We added a security lock on her place after the lab boys were done. It's 20 Cumberland Street, just two blocks down from the school."

"Great, that will really save me some time tomorrow," Steve said, pocketing the key, although he still had a mountain of organizing to do at school.

When they were just finishing up with dinner, something occurred to Jeannie. "Hey, Steve isn't the Faculty/Senior game on Monday? I saw the signs in the hall when we were there and I was thinking of going with some of my girlfriends from high school. It's always such a hoot! Since you are on the staff, maybe you could join us?"

_Oh, terrific_, he thought, _witnesses to my latest humiliation. _Steve didn't say anything right away, lowering his eye and rubbing the back of his neck, but once again Mike seemed to be reading his mind.

"Anything you care to share with the class, smiley?" Mike asked in a good natured tone.

"Well, um, I kinda agreed to play on Monday. Got any tips, Mike?"

_**A/N: Blood evidence is easily rehydrated with a saline solution, then it can be type matched. The technique to identify the sex of a victim from blood (identifying the Barr Body in the blood) was in use by the late 60's. Both techniques would have been in common use in the 1970's.**_

_**P.S. If you've never been to San Francisco, one of the best views is from one of the dock side restaurants in Sausalito, which is Marin County, just across the Golden Gate Bridge. Steamed Dungeness crab, sour dough bread and local beer, one of the best meals you'll ever eat. MBC**_


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Thanks for your interest and reviews, it really encourages me to continue. We are getting very close to the climax of the story. To Nan: When you listed your suspects, I think you forgot somebody!**

Steve's alarm went off at 8 am. He glanced in the mirror as he turned on the shower and was not pleased at what he saw. Although the swelling had gone down considerably, it had been replace by matching crescent shaped bruises, one below each eye. It was a nice counterpoint to the lovey shade of yellow green his right eye wore from his still-healing bruise. Shaking his head, he showered, not bothering to shave, and dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. After a quick cup of coffee, he donned sunglasses and headed out to start his day.

Despite the mirth at his expense, he had enjoyed the previous evening in the company of his two favorite people. Working on his own for the past few day, he missed the opportunity to share ideas about the case with Mike. It surprised him sometimes how reliant he had become on Mike Stone's presence in his life. He thought about Diane and Mona's relationship and what she must be feeling.

Mike had been generous in his advice on how to survive Monday's basketball game, advising him rely on his speed and quickness and especially to stay away from the area under the basket, where most of the mayhem usually occurred. When they parted last night, he could tell that Mike was concerned, but he assured both Mike and Jeannie that he would be careful and that everything would work out just fine.

His first stop was Mona's house on Cumberland. He found the two binders labeled 1942 and 1952 just where Mike had said they would be. He relocked the security hasp and drove the two blocks back to Mission High. The lot was full of cars, no doubt students involved in practices and taking the SAT's. He grabbed the binders, entered the unlocked main door and walked to room A112.

Steve went into the classroom and tossed the two binders on the desk. He went over to the bookcase and started pulling down the binders and the loose document and sleeves. He sorted all the article by date and year and stacked them neatly into piles. He then laid the binders out by year and placed the sleeves in the appropriate binder. It was hard not to get distracted by the parade of history at his fingertips, and he frequently had to redirect himself to the task at hand. He had to admire Mona's dedication, collecting such a comprehensive archive. It was nearly 11:30 by the time he was placing the last of the binders on the shelf. Curiously, the one binder he needed for his lessons next week was nowhere to be found. He rechecked the other shelves in the classroom and dug through the papers in Mona's desk, but 1962 wasn't there. _Great,_ he though, _now I have a whole year of newspaper articles to research._

He sat down at the desk and looked at the stack of papers that needed to be graded and the amount of reading he still had to do, selecting the articles for Monday's lesson. He suddenly felt overwhelmed. Teachers definitely didn't get paid enough for this much preparation. Although he had to admit, there was something very stimulating about crafting a lesson for young minds.

oooooooo

Mike woke with a start at 7 am. He'd dreamed about Steve. He was in trouble, but Mike didn't know where or how or why. Hard as he tried, he couldn't reach him, and the more he tried, the further away Steve seemed to be. It was the kinds of dream you couldn't quite shake when you were awake, not that he could put his finger on any details. Mike didn't belief in supernatural gobbledygook, but he did belief in instinct and right now his gut was telling him that they were missing something. Something that Steve would wind up right in the middle of.

He left the house before Jeannie awoke, and went down to Bryant Street. Grabbing the evidence from the front seat, Mike headed for the lab. He was feeling a little frustrated by his role in the case, which seemed to be limited to lab messenger boy and inter-department liaison. He missed having Steve around, not only for his youthful enthusiasm and novel perspective, but also for his attention to detail in the mundane details of police work and his head for the science of police work.

Mike didn't know the lab tech who signed for the evidence. He didn't look like he was even old enough to shave. All these young college kids, embracing new technology, solving crime under the microscope. Today, it made Mike feel old. He supposed that was the most important reason he missed his partner. When Steve was around, for whatever reason, he didn't feel his age.

ooooooooo

Steve decided to finish the rest of the work that needed to be done at home. He collected up the tests, picked up the two binders, shut out the light and locked the door. As he turned to leave, he was surprised to see the light on in Diane's room. Steve peered through the window in the door. She was sitting at her desk grading assignments. He rapped on the door lightly to get her attention and she waved him in.

"Can't stay away, can you Keller?" she said with a wry smile.

"I could say the same for you," he replied with a grin.

"Grades are coming due next week, and well…" she inclined her head to the large stack of artwork, "they won't grade themselves. By the way, nice bruises."

Steve replied with shrug. Setting the binders on a drafting table, he glanced at his watch. It was a little past noon and he was starving. He dropped his keys on top of the binders and suddenly it occurred to him that, along with the classroom key, he still had the master keys to the building.

That raised an interesting possibility. He might be able to get into the locker room and take a peek in lockers. If the school's gym teacher were anything like his from high school, the locker information was likely on a clipboard somewhere in the open. While probably not strictly legal, it might be his only chance to see what was in them, particularly in light of what happened with the other lockers. It wasn't practical right now, but perhaps later on, after practices let out?

He was roused from his inner dialog by Diane clearing her throat. "Anybody home?" she asked loudly.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about something else. Do you want to get out of here and get some lunch?"

Steve and Diane walked to a local cafe. "Thanks, I needed this." Diane said. She looked really tired and even when she smiled, it didn't reach her eyes.

"How are you holding up?"

"OK, I guess. I'm just trying to stay busy. It's just so odd. I'll be going along just fine, and all of a sudden I'll see something or think, oh I need to tell Mona that, and well, she was just such a big part of my life. It's going to take time, I guess." She paused and sighed heavily, "I might even consider a transfer. It's really hard being across from her room." When she looked at him, her eyes were bright with tears.

"You really think you could just walk away?" Steve asked, but he understood how she felt. If something happened to Mike, he didn't think he could go back to Bryant Street right away, or maybe ever."

"I suppose. I didn't start out to be a teacher, I only got my teaching degree to keep my parents off my back. I really wanted to paint, but after I got here and Mona took me under her wing, I couldn't imagine doing anything else." Diane went silent and seemed to be lost in here own thoughts.

Diane reached into her overalls and pulled out a picture. She flattened it with her fingers, looking at it with a sad smile, then showed it to Steve. "This was last summer, she finally convinced me to go to Vegas with her."

Steve looked at the picture of the two unlikely friends in happier times, smiling broadly for the camera.

"Steve, can you tell me what happened to her?"

He knew this was coming, but didn't know how much he could or should tell her. "Are you sure you want to know? It's not very…" he came up short, not knowing what words to use. If she wanted to leave Mission High before, after she heard the grizzly details, he didn't know how she could ever go back.

"Keller, listen. I have to know, because for everyone else, it's like she disappeared, no one acknowledging her life or her passing. It's like limbo. I can't even begin to move on until I know what happened."

"Not here." he said.

After paying the check they walked into the park and although it was chilly, the weak winter sunshine providied at least the illusion of warm and life. They sat down shoulder to shoulder on one of the benches.

"You're sure you want to hear this?" Steve asked again. Diane nodded her head and looked off in the distance. He decided there was no way to hold back the truth anymore.

"Well, you were right about one thing, she never left school on the last day before holiday. From what we can gather, she was cleaning up, scrubbing the desks before she left. She went into the pottery studio to dump the bucket of cleaner…" Steve stopped.

Diane filled in the blank, "Yeah, she used to do that every Friday. I never quite got that."

Theory confirmed, he continued, "Someone hit her, with either a slab of dry clay or a piece of greenware, we found the remnants of that and her blood in the sink, and um," he couldn't continue, but one look at the horror in her eyes told her he didn't have to."

They sat quietly for a long time. Finally, Diane broke the silence, "That's where the ash came from in the locket." It was a statement, not a question.

"Where is she now?" Diane asked without emotion.

"Her remains are at the lab at Bryant Street. As soon as this is all over, they will release them so there can be a proper burial."

"Do you have any idea who or why?"

"We have some leads, but, that's why I'm at the school, so we can figure out exactly who did it and for what reason."

Without saying a word, Diane got up from the bench and headed for the school. Steve gave her some space, but then got up and followed. When he caught up, she was sitting on the wall outside the main entrance.

"The door's locked," was all she said.

The parking lot was now empty except for his car. "Do you need anything from inside?" he asked, fumbling for his keys."

"Yeah, I need to get my stuff, but I don't think I can go in there right now." She handed him the keys to her desk, "Bottom left drawer, I need my bag and sketch book...Thank you." She added in a whisper.

Steve opened the door and disabled the alarm. He walked into the room, opened the desk and grabbed her bag and book from the bottom drawer. He piled them on top of his binders and test papers. Juggling his cargo, he locked the door and headed for the exit. He dumped everything on the wall next to Diane, set the alarm and relocked the main door.

As Diane separated the material, she pulled a large manila envelope from underneath her sketch book. "What's this?" she asked.

Steve looked at her, puzzled. "I got it out of your desk, I have no idea what it is."

They both looked at the envelope. Diane's name was written across the top in small, clear precise cursive. "This is Mona's handwriting." Diane said, clearly spooked by the mystery envelope.


	20. Chapter 20

Diane opened the sealed envelope and spilled the contents out on the wall. There were two bunches of papers, clipped separately, one pink, one white, and a small note in Mona's hand. Diane scooped the note up before Steve could stop her and read it silently. Steve retrieved the pink sheets and flipped through the numerous pages. They were, without question, the carbon copies of the missing referrals. His initial excitement about the discovery faded as he looked more closely at the papers. While the dates and names of Walen and Ballinger were clear and easy to read, the bodies of the documents, where the real information was, were faint and smeared and in some cases illegible. _Damn four part carbons, fat lot of good this is going to be, _he thought. If Mona was alive, she might have been able to decipher them, but now, his only hope was the lab.

Diane reached for the other group of papers but Steve stopped her. "Hang on," he said reaching for the documents himself. "We want to limit the number of prints on these." He flipped through the papers. On the plain white pages were more laconic threats, not unlike the one left on the plan book. "What does the note say?" He asked. She didn't respond immediately, seemingly a little dazed. Finally, Diane handed Steve the note:

_Dear Diane,_

_Hold these for me. I wanted to talk to you about this before we went on holiday, but you left so quickly. I've been getting these notes for a while. I thought it was just the kids being, well kids, but now I don't know. I didn't want to worry you but for the past week, I've had the feeling that someone has been looking through my room. You know, things being out of place or missing. I wasn't going to say anything but then I saw the note on my plan book. Most likely, I'm just being paranoid, but better these be safe in your room. I also wanted to show you a picture I have, to see what you think about it. It's probably just an old lady's over-active imagination, but if something happens, give these to Mr. Pence and he can take it from there. Please, don't fret about me. I hope you have a lovely Christmas. See you in the New Year._

_Love always,_

_Mona_

Steve looked in the envelope, and then through the papers again, there was no sign of a photograph. When he looked back at Diane, she had a stricken look on her face. "If I hadn't rushed out, Mona might still be alive." She said with regret coloring her voice.

Steve looked her in the eyes. He could already see the clouds of guilt and remorse forming and he knew how self-destructive that could be. He knew from personal experience that seconding guessing a decision was a road best left untraveled. "You don't know that, Diane."

"How can you say that, Steve? Mona just accused me from the grave." She broke his gaze and turned her back to him.

He stood up and walked around to face her and sat back down.

"Listen to me, I won't assume I know what you're feeling, but I know a little bit about life and death decisions. I don't want to seem arrogant," even though he knew he sounded that way, "but I really do know where you are going with this, and my advice is don't. I've seen regret like that eat people alive." Steve took a deep breath. "Yeah, you might have talked to her, and maybe it changes the outcome or maybe you wind up dead, too. Don't forget the message that was left in your room. Please, I beg you, don't dwell on this, it won't help Mona, and it could destroy you, and frankly, I would hate to see that happen." He trailed off, not knowing if he was getting through to her as she sat staring at the ground. He stopped talking and they sat in silence.

"Can you please drop me home?" she asked in a quiet voice.

Steve knew it not a good idea for her to be alone; he understood how consuming guilt could be but he also knew that if it were him, he'd need space to work it out privately. Steve gathered up the evidence and drove her home in a suffocating silence. He walked her to her door.

"I'll call you later, ok." Steve said as she shut her apartment door.

He found a pay phone and tried to call Mike at home, to no avail. He needed to get the latest batch of document to the lab, but couldn't risk being seen at Bryant Street. He tried the office and was surprised when Norm Haseejian answered the phone.

"Lt. Stone's Desk, Haseejian."

"Norm, where's Mike?" Steve asked.

"Ah, the prodigal son returns. Are you ever coming back to work?" Said Norm sarcastically, knowing very well that Steve was working undercover. He just couldn't help ribbing the young detective.

"Very funny," Steve deadpanned, "Do you or don't you know where Mike is?"

"He was here a while ago, he must have stepped out. Do you want me to give him a message?"

"Yeah, tell him I called." Steve paused thinking of what else could be done, "Hold on, maybe you can help me out." He explained the need to get evidence to the lab asap. They agreed to meet at Bob's Donuts on Polk Street, but only after Steve assured Norm that the donuts were on him. He hoped to hell it was far enough outside of Mission's neighborhood to be safe.

Parking up the street a bit, Steve grabbed a ball cap from the front seat and pulled it down low over his eyes; put on his sun glasses and entered the shop. He hoped that the hat and glasses hid the bruises on his face, he really didn't feel like explaining is newest injury to Norm of all people. He didn't see Norm, so he went up to the counter to order coffee.

"Hey, you're Mr. Keller, aren't you? The new teacher at school. Didn't you break up the fight between Nikki and Kimmie yesterday? Oh my gawd, look at your face!" Said the young brunette behind the counter, all in one breath. Her name tag read "Nancy."

_Are you kidding me? _Steve thought, as he answered politely, "Um Yeah, that's me. Can a get a coffee, to go please, Nancy. I'm kind of in a hurry."

"Sure thing, Mr. Keller, coming right up." She said, as she busied herself fetching his order. Steve was anxious to get out before Norm arrived. All he needed was Norm, looking every bit a cop, to come in and blow his cover. No sooner had that thought crossed his mind, then Haseejian came through the door.

He desperately tried to catch the detective's eye and wave him out of the shop, but Nancy caught sight of Norm and called him by name.

"Sgt. Haseejian, we haven't seen you in a while, what can I get for you." Said Nancy, with a big smile.

Norm looked from Nancy to Steve as she was handing Steve his coffee.

"Hey there Nancy, it has been a while, hasn't it. Well, you know what I like, get me a couple of those chocolate donuts and a coffee to go and my fr…" he trailed off as he was about to acknowledge Steve, thinking better of it. In the interim, Steve had taken off his sunglass in a panic and stared wide eyed at the Armenian detective, praying that he got the message to play it cool.

Steve grabbed his coffee and mumbled a quick, "thank you."

"See you at school on Monday, Mr. Keller!" Nancy called.

Not making eye contact with Norm, he turned on his heels and beat a hasty retreat. He heard Norm continue to chat up the pretty high school girl as the door closed behind him.

Steve got into his car and closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief. He considered driving off, but waited patiently for Norm to appear. Norm strolled up to the car and leaned against the driver side door, startling Steve. He rolled down the window slightly.

"Damn kid that was close but never fear, Uncle Norm charmed the little lady right out of any suspicions she may have had." Haseejian said with a grin."

Exasperated, Steve replied, "You could have told me they knew you in here when we set up the meet."

"Didn't think it would be an issue, I haven't been here in ages. The kids at the counter come and go so often, what are the odds that a kid from Mission would be on the counter this part of town?"

"Apparently, very good," said Steve sarcastically.

Steve slid the envelope to Norm through the open window. "Tell the lab boys to concentrate on the white sheets for prints. Then see if they can do anything to make the pink sheets more legible and if you see Mike tell about the new evidence and have him call me at home." He added.

"Is there anything else; pick up your dry cleaning, walk your dog?" Norm answered acerbically. You know you still owe me a donut for this little errand, but I settle for the tale of the raccoon." said Norm with a smirk after inspecting Steve bruised face.

Steve rolled his eyes at the older detective, "Thanks, I owe you Norm." He said cranking up the window.

Knowing that there wasn't much more he could accomplish at that point, Steve ran a few errands before heading home. After his auspicious first day of school, he was truly amazed that everywhere he went, there seemed to be a student who knew who he was. He was glad when he finally got behind closed doors at his apartment; dismayed that his privacy, for the time being, seemed to be gone.

Steve grabbed a beer and thought about the case, really wanting to get a look in the gym lockers of Whalen and Ballinger, but knew he needed to run that by Mike first. He sat down with the binders to select articles for Monday. When the phone rang, Steve was surprised that the sun had gone down. He looked at the clock and it was well past 7. _Another fun Saturday night, _Steve thought.

Steve was glad when he heard Mikes voice on the other end. He went over the note and the other evidence in the envelope, building up his resolve to ask about a little reconnaissance mission to the school.

"Well, what do you think Mike?" Steve asked after proposing the idea. Mike paused briefly considering it.

"I don't know buddy boy, it's "technically legal, but I get the feeling that Walen's lawyers would have a field day with this in court. I think you do too, or we wouldn't be having this discussion. How about I try to get Pence on the phone and get his ok, first."

"But, Mike…" was all Steve got out before Mike continued.

"I know you're anxious to get a look before the kids get in there on Monday, but tell me this, what are we going to do if you find something?"

Steve already had an answer for that, "What if we got the drug dogs from the feds to do a random sweep on Monday? That way the evidence would stand up, no matter how loud the lawyers squawk."

"I still don't know," Mike countered, "they could always say the drugs were planted if the combinations are out in the open, like you suspect."

"It would at least give you a reason to haul them in for questioning and by that point, with any luck, we will have some good news on fingerprints from the lab. What do you think?"

_**A/N: The bit in the shops is the God's honest truth, and a little paean to Groundhog Day! From the day you step into a high school classroom, particularly if you step in with a splash, like Steve, there is no place within 50 miles of where you teach (and even further sometimes) that you can go without someone recognizing you. Whether they loved you or hated you, they always treat you like they are your best friend in public. I have been greeted by students and former students everywhere from the supermarket to the emergency room and it usually happens when you are at you're worst!**_

_**Drug Dogs are currently in use to sweeps U.S. High Schools periodically. It is also true that they don't do it unless they have pretty compelling evidence that there are drugs on campus. It's a very interesting experience. They came into use in the U.S. around 1965, particularly in west coast port cities during the Vietnam War. So it is plausible that they could been available to the police in San Francisco in 1971-72. **_


	21. Chapter 21

_**A/N: A very short chapter, as things begin to fall into place, or do they? Thanks for the reads and reviews.**_

Steve hung up the phone. Mike had agreed to Steve's plan, with the caveat of Mr. Pence's blessing. He had no sooner hung up the phone, when it rang again. On the line was Mr. Settle, the gym teacher, inviting Steve to a shoot-around on Sunday morning with the rest of the faculty team. Steve readily agreed, not believing his good fortune. He would be able to get the locker numbers and combinations right from the gym teacher after the practice, without the need for a nighttime foray.

He tried Mike at home, but the line was busy, so he continued with his lesson plans, rounding out the evening with pizza and grading papers. When he finally heard back from Mike, he had the green light from Mr. Pence. As a bonus, Mike was very happy that the inspection could take place with the blessings of the principal and the gym teacher, in the light of day. Mike and Steve debated the wisdom of bringing the gym teacher into the loop, but in the end, it only made sense. They wouldn't tell him the nature of the investigation but they needed to look in those lockers, and he held the key to the access required. Steve tried to ring Diane before he retired, but there was no answer.

ooooooooo

Steve got up early and dressed in sweats. He was a little concerned about his basketball ability, but discovered he shouldn't have been. When he arrived at the school, he was gratified to see a team of men and women who were a little older, and a little more out of shape than himself. He was just grabbing a basketball when, to his amazement, Diane came out of the women's locker room, attired in a pale blue and gold UC Berkeley Bears warm up suit. She came over to the rack and grabbed a basketball, handling it with ease.

"What?" She said to his stunned reaction, "How do you think a six foot girl from the sticks paid for Berkeley?"

"Basketball Scholarship?" He asked.

"Yep, four years, full ride."

Steve was still digesting this new information when he spoke, "I thought you said they called this the Payback Game, I didn't think you would go anywhere near it."

"I never said _I _wouldn't play, I said _you_ shouldn't play. You know, the students aren't the _only _ones who dish out payback. Plus, I can't let you get too banged up." She said with a smirk.

Steve just shook his head at her.

Mr. Settle jogged over to Steve and Diane. "Thanks for volunteering, Steve. I know you're new, but we can use all the young blood we can get. I see you've met our Secret Weapon, you know she was an All-American at Berkeley her junior and senior year.

"I had no idea," Steve replied, realizing just how little he knew about her.

Steve stared in awe as Diane expertly dribble the ball down the court, pulled up and hit a perfect jump shot from the foul line. "Confidentially," Settle added with a smile, "she is the only reason we win every year!"

The practice went reasonably well. Steve felt he didn't embarrass himself too badly, although nobody on the team could hold a candle to Diane's skill and grace on the court. He was glad to see that she seemed to be enjoying herself. It was as if the time on the court helped her release some of the demons haunting her since Mona's disappearance.

Mr. Settle handed out Gold Mission high T-Shirts to wear the following evening as the team gathered their things and exited the gym. Steve wanted to catch Diane before she left, to see how she was doing. His priority, however, was to talk to Mr. Settle privately and inspect the lockers. Steve followed him into the locker room.

"A cop, really?" Mr. Settle responded with shock.

"Yep, we are looking into something and I need to get into a couple of students' lockers." Steve showed him his shield and continued, "Mr. Pence is aware of the situation, and I have his permission to take a look."

Settle gave him the locker numbers and combinations for Walen and Ballinger. He also gave him the key to the basketball team room and bid him goodbye, reminding Steve to lock the main entrance and set the alarm. Steve was surprised to find out that the rest of the school doors were a locked and chained. "Well, you know this neighborhood isn't the best." was Mr. Settle's response.

Steve walked down the rows in the locker room until he found Mitchell Ballinger's locker and dialed in the combination. He popped open the locker and was unsurprised that it had been cleaned out. He slammed it shut in anger, now convinced that the students had been tipped off. He proceeded to Walen's locker, without much enthusiasm. Again, the locker was empty.

Steve left the locker room discouraged. He was about to unlock the team room when he hear voices coming from around corner. He pocketed the keys, quietly went down the hall and let the darkness swallow his presence. He could not see who was speaking but he heard three muffled voices, two male  
>and one female. They opened the team room and went in, letting the door close behind them. Steve crept forward, low to the ground. He tried to peer in the door-light, but could not see who had gone in. The sound level in the room suddenly raised as the occupants seemed to be engaged in a lively argument. He only caught a few words: one male voice saying something about being well paid, the female voice replying shrilly about more than she bargained for. The third voice clearly stated <em>they have nothing on us.<em> He heard a locker door slam, and the sound increased as the voices approached the door.

Choosing speed over stealth, Steve took off up the hall and turned at his first opportunity. He hugged the wall and crouched down, catching his breath. He heard the team room door shut and one voice shushed the other two. Time seemed to stand still as he listened intently, and heard nothing. Finally one of the male voices, laughed and said, "You two are hearing things, the school is deserted," and started off in the other direction. Steve couldn't swear to it, but he was pretty sure it was Marc Walen.

Steve sat down on the floor. There was definitely someone else involved, but who. He hadn't heard the female voice clearly, but by his reckoning, only two women knew he was a cop and also knew about his request to see the lockers, Bri Molen and Diane Bader. He need to talk to Mike.

_**A/N: Cal Berkeley did have a Women's Varsity Basketball Program as early as the 1950's. **_


	22. Chapter 22

Mike had already had a mind-numbing day and it was just coming on noon. After his conversation with Steve on Sunday evening, he had spent the better part of the morning calling financial institutions looking for bank records for Alexander Walen III, Diane Bader and Bri Molen. If someone had "gotten paid," there was more than likely a record of unusually large deposits or withdrawals. While that alone would not be enough reason to bring someone in for questioning, it surely was a piece of the larger puzzle.

He quickly found out that Walen's holdings were vast, with a history of large transaction. After just a few inquiries, he gave up that particular avenue for the time being. He instead concentrated on the other two. Mike finally located multiple accounts for both women and made appointments at three separate banks to see if he could follow the money. He enlisted Haseejian and Lessing to help with the paper trail.

He poured a cup of coffee and sat down at his desk, pulling a copy of Mona Holtzbaur's note from the case folder. He wondered if Steve had tracked down the mystery photograph. The two close calls Steve had at Bob's and after practice had Mike concerned. He felt like Steve's cover was unraveling. This whole case reminded him of an old Agatha Christie mystery novel, gruesome murder, letters from the grave, dead end clues and questionable suspects and motives. He hoped for Steve safety, it didn't completely follow that pattern, with a surprise twist and a dangerous suspect from left field in the final chapter.

Mike grabbed his coat and hat. Before he headed out to plow through the records at the bank, he went down to the lab to check on their progress with the fingerprints and the jacket. Charlie saw Mike come through the door and grabbed a folder from his desk and walked over to the counter.

"Got anything for me, Charlie?" Mike asked impatiently.

"Hi, Charlie. How's the family? Oh, fine just, fine." Charlie replied in a good natured tone. He knew Mike was single-minded when he was on a case, but he couldn't help himself sometimes."

"Point taken," Mike answered with a smile "You got anything for me?"

"Well yes and no. The fingerprints from the test and the threats aren't quite there yet, but..." Charlie trailed off, as Mike asked another question.

"When, Charlie?"

"End of day, at the latest."

"So what DO you have for me?"

"The jacket." Charlie pulled a large evidence bag to the middle of the counter. "The finger print matches one of the sets of prints on the plan book, but still no id."

"And the blood."

"Now that's the odd thing, Mike. The blood type is the same, but it's definitely male."

Mike contemplated that response. "The perp's blood?"

"Could be, no way to tell right now. It could also be from a third source," Charlie mused as he pulled another small swatch of fabric from a bag. "The scrap of cloth from the kiln that Steve found, you can see, is a perfect match."

oooooooo

Steve got to school early, deciding to take one more look around the classroom. The picture Mona had mentioned in her letter was there, somewhere. He went into the room and sat down at the desk, not bothering with the lights. He closed his eyes, visualizing possible hiding places in a classroom. He got up and moved items off the shelves, meticulously looking behind and under surfaces with no success. Going back to the desk and sliding out each drawers, he ran his hands over all the inside surfaces. He pulled out the drawers and flipped them over one at a time; piqued when he found an envelope taped to the bottom of the lower drawer.

He carefully opened the envelope. Inside was not one picture, but two that had been clipped from the newspaper. The first was fairly small, only about two by three inches and was a headshot of a man who appeared to be in his early thirties. To Steve's eye, it looked like a mug shot. Unfortunately the identifying numbers had been cropped out. The newsprint was so yellow and degraded, it would be hard to figure out who it was, and yet the face seemed vaguely familiar. Above the photo, a partial date was visible, _12, 1962. _Steve flipped over the clipping. On the inverse, was a portion of an article which contained the byline of a reporter he recognized from _The San Francisco Chronicle. _He thought back to 1962 and tried to make a mental list of events he remembered. The Cuban Missile Crisis for sure, but he was fairly certain the photo had nothing to do with that. He wracked his brain, but he was not coming up with anything useful.

Steve looked at the second picture. It was a demonstration of some sort, and looked particularly contentious. He recognized San Francisco City Hall Steps and had a hazy memory of a sit-in by Berkeley students. While that event did not startle him, he himself had participated in demonstrations in his student day, one of the participants did. Standing tow to tow with an armed police officer was the unmistakable 6 foot frame of Diane Bader. He was stunned. He looked for a date on the photo, and again only a partial date remained, but it also originated in the year 1962. All of a sudden, the disappearance of the 1962 binder didn't seem so mysterious.

Now he didn't know what to think. As a public school teacher, and depending on the nature of her involvement in the demonstration, the existence of this photograph could be the end of her career. He thought back to the voices he heard in the hall the previous day. While he couldn't be certain, he didn't think it had been Diane. He really hoped it hadn't been Diane. Because if it was… Could she have played him that completely? He needed to find the original newspaper articles and hoped the full stories would give the photos some context. In addition, who was the man in the other photo, and why did he look familiar? That unfortunately, would have to wait, as his extra time had elapsed and the morning bell rang.

Although he took a bit of ribbing from the students about the bruising on his face and some disconcerting sympathy from the young ladies, it was a much calmer and more intellectually stimulating morning. His students really gravitated toward the discussions Steve had crafted, comparing popular public sentiment in regards to US Wars: World War II in 1942, The Korean Conflict in 1952 and present day Viet Nam. He was quite surprised by the teens' insight and interest and by lunch, he could almost see the appeal that teaching had.

After his discovery earlier, Steve avoided Diane for most of the morning and when his lunch period started, rather than heading for lunchroom, where he was sure she would be, he went to talk to the school librarian. She was a wizened old owl of a woman, with iron grey hair and large oversized glasses. He needed to look for the 1962 papers that contained the mystery photos. In addition, depending how much longer he was going to be in the school, he needed to research other events from 1962 for his lessons.

"Can I help you, young man?" she asked.

"You sure can," Steve replied with his most winning smile, "Tell me, do we have bound copies of local newspapers?"

"I can do better than that. We have a microfiche system." She said proudly, pointing to a carrel holding the large viewer."

"You're kidding me, how can the school afford that?" Steve said, pleasantly surprised.

"You can thank your predecessor. She petitioned the "Chronicle" for a system. Mona Holtzbaur is a very persuasive woman. We are the only High School in San Francisco that has one."

His admiration for the deceased history teacher increased once again. Not believing his luck, Steve asked, "Does it have a printer, too?"

oooooooo

Mike took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He had been at it for over two hours, staring at pages and pages of printouts and he finally had been rewarded with a piece of interesting information. His appreciation for Steve, who normally handled this type of task was boundless at the moment. He would be happy when this case was finally over. He copied down the information and headed back to Bryant Street to compare notes with Lessing and Haseejian. He honestly hoped they had found nothing. That, at least, would narrow down the suspect pool by one.

It was almost 4 pm when Mike got into the office. He looked for Norm or Lee and seeing neither, he decided to pay a visit to the lab. Before he could even get out the door, Charlie came into the office looking very pleased.

"We got 'em Mike."

ooooooooo

Steve set up the viewer and started to scroll through the year 1962. He laid the pictures on the desk and began. He was reasonably sure that both pictures had appeared on the front page, so he started there. Steve hit pay dirt almost immediately in the January 15th edition. There was Diane. He didn't have a lot of time, less than twenty minutes before he had to be back in class, so rather than reading the article, he quickly printed a copy. His search slowed down after that, as he reeled to the 12th of each month, having to reload the machine between each month. His time was running out when he came upon the man he was looking for on the front page of June 12, 1962. _This makes no sense, _Steve though as he pressed the print button, grabbed his copies and jogged back to his classroom.

_**A/N: Bank records were computerized in the early 1970. While it would be cumbersome to get information, it was possible for the police to access financial information in a timely manner.**_

_**Microfiche was widely used in the 60's and 70's. The high school I attended during that time period (I won't tell you when) had, in fact, gotten a microfiche machine in a grant program from the Local Newspaper, with film records of the paper going back 100 years.**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**A/N: Thanks again to all for your kind reviews, I have been trying to respond individually, but RL sometimes gets in the way. To Nan and other guest reviews, thanks as well. A special wink to the ladies of the SOSF writer group: If you've read the conversation thread carefully over the past few months, you may have seen this coming. **_

Steve hustled back to his room and unlocked the door. His mind was racing. Why had Mona thought those pictures were important enough to secret away under a desk drawer? He was particularly intrigued by the headshot of the man. Unfortunately his discovery would have to wait. He dropped the printouts of the articles on his desk and began class. Walen and Ballinger mercifully arrived on time and chose to ignore Steve rather than confront him today, spending the entire class trading knowing looks. The period flew by. Now, Steve had a decision to make. Track the two suspects he had, or follow up on Mona's hidden photographs.

He chose the former, dogging the students after class once again, this time tailing Ballinger when the two students split. Ballinger walked toward the back of the building and went upstairs. Steve followed at a discreet distance, hidden by the crowd in the hallway. He stopped at his locker, gathered a few things, turned around and came back towards Steve. Puzzled, Steve turned and retraced his steps, ducking into the first empty classroom he passed. _Very stealthy Keller_, he chastised himself. The only thing he could think of was that Ballinger was either very stupid, or arrogant and informed enough to assume that since the locker had already been searched, it was safe to use again.

The bell rang as he stood askance of the door and watched Ballinger pass. He waited for what felt like a prudent amount of time and headed back to his room to retrieve the locker combination. He was not surprised today when he found Mr. Fischer already in his room cleaning up. After exchanging pleasantries, he went into his bag and grabbed the combinations. As he turned to leave, he noticed the printouts from the library still lying on his desk. He gathered them up and tucked them into the drawer.

Taking the steps two at a time, Steve went up to Ballinger's locker, dialed in the combination and opened it. He pulled out his handkerchief and covered his hand, moving the text books around until he found what he was looking for, a plastic bag with what looked like an entire pharmacy of illegal drugs. He backed tracked to Walen's locker and opened it, Bingo. Another bag, this time with what appeared to be grass and heroin, packaged for individual sales. _How stupid could you be?_ He thought as he slammed the locker closed, this time with satisfaction; while it didn't help with the murder investigation, he finally had solid evidence against the dynamic duo. He made a path to the main office to call Mike, get Narco involved in the locker check and plan their next move. He stopped short as he got there, and made a silent retreat back to his classroom. Mitchell Ballinger was sitting in the office speaking with Bri Molen.

"Damn it!" He shouted aloud as he slammed his palms against his desk. He needed to get to a secure phone and call Mike. He checked the time. The dismissal bell would be ringing shortly. He was now leery about using the office phones, even after Ballinger left, and he didn't have time to use the payphones before students would be crowding the hallway. _Now what? _He thought as he sat down heavily on edge of the desk.

oooooooo

Charlie laid the file in front of Mike. "What am I looking at Charlie?" Mike asked, in no mood to play show and tell.

"Well Mike. We finally have the prints from the test papers that Steve got. That was brilliant, by the way, we don't often get suspects to sign their own prints, tell him that for me when you see him."

Mike was getting more and more impatient. "Charlie…" he said gruffly.

"Ok, ok. Well we got a couple of matches. When we compared them, we found both Whalen and Ballinger's prints on the plan book." Charlie produced two sets of print cards.

"No doubts, Charlie?"

"No doubts, Mike. They are as good a match as you'll ever see and there's more." Charlie paused dramatically. "There were also print matches on the other threatening notes that Steve passed to Haseejian."

"Anything else?"

"I saved the best for last. We have Ballinger's prints on the kiln, and Walen's print on the collar of the jacket. It's as close to a slam dunk as you can get in this business."

Mike was very pleased, but something was nagging at him. "Charlie, did we get any matches at Mona's house?"

Charlie was deflated by the question, "What, this isn't enough for you?"

"No, Charlie don't get me wrong this is great, but wasn't there another set of prints on the note and at Mona's? We're still missing something."

Charlie left the file on the desk. Mike looked to the outer office. Haseejian and Lessing were both at their desks. When they saw Charlie leave, they rose together and to Mike's dismay, Haseejian walked in with printouts in hand.

"What did you find out two find out?"

Haseejian began, "Well, Mike, you can tell Steve he owes me another favor, I think I've broken your case wide open. I found a $20,000 deposit in Diane Bader's savings account. There is nothing close to that in her banking records, in, um, forever. No amounts even remotely close. It certainly looks suspicious." He handed Mike the printout with a flourish.

"Great," Mike said with no enthusiasm.

Haseejian was perplexed, "What, Mike?"

Mike pulled out printouts of his own from the file. "I also found unusually large cash deposits in Bri Molen's account."

With the evidence he had, it was time to make a move on Walen and Ballinger, but he had to be very, very careful. With the elder Walen's clout, Mike needed to make sure everything was 100% by the book. He looked at his watch, wishing Steve would check in. He needed to bring him up to speed on the fingerprint evidence. The basketball game was due to start at 6, so he was probably still at the school. Mike got up and headed for Roy Olsen's office. It was now time to bring the captain into the loop.

ooooooo

Steve pulled out the articles from the library. He put the one with Diane's picture off to the side and concentrated on the other. Three mug shots were centered beneath a bold headline declaring "ALCATRAZ ESCAPE." He figured that was why the picture looked so familiar, the story had consumed San Francisco and most of California for a good portion of the summer of '62. He remembered it well. Three inmates, brothers Clarence and John Anglin and Frank Morris had constructed a raft from raincoats and contact cement. They spent a year digging a tunnel with spoons and managed to leave the island on their raft the night of June 11.

Though experts concluded they had perished in the cold water of the bay, the bodies were never found. He took a second look at the pictures. It didn't make any sense, why had Mona hidden this picture. Unless… Could she have possibly recognized one of the escapees after 10 years? Maybe Mike could get the print cards for the inmates and check them against the multitude of prints they had collect so far. Steve copied down the prisoners names in his notebook, wrote prints and put a big question mark next to it. He put the article off to the side.

He picked up the second article and began to read. The protest had been related to an HUAC committee subpoena of a Berkeley students. Steve also remembered this event. It really had been an important step in the free speech movement. There was no indication that there had been any arrest in the article. With 1972's climate of civil disobedience and the discrediting of the HUAC, Steve couldn't see how this would be a problem for Diane. Although, who knew what kind of moral turpitude clause was written into teachers' contracts. He thought about it for a minute. Having gotten a little bit of a feel for the way Mona operated, maybe hiding the photo was just her way of protecting Diane from a school board witch hunt.

Steve looked at his watch, it was after 4. He needed to check in. Deciding the safest way to get in touch with Mike was to drive off campus and either find a phone booth or go back to his apartment, if necessary, to make the call, he grabbed the articles and his notebook from his desk and stuffed them in his bag. The building was still buzzing when he locked his classroom door. With multiple practices and the Big Basketball game at 6:00, it seemed as if the halls were just as crowed as during the school day. Diane was exiting her room as he tried to duck out.

"Boy, you have been scarce today, what's up?" she inquired.

"Oh, you know, lots to do, little time." Steve said in a neutral way. While deep down he really didn't think she had anything to do Mona's death, the hidden photo had giving him pause. Anxious to get out of there, he continued, "I need to run out before the game, see you later, ok."

Regrettably, she wasn't going to give up that easily. "Hang on Steve, you sure nothings up? Has something happened with the case?" She inquired in a low voice.

He looked at his watch again, time was working against him but he felt like she deserved some kind of answer. In the end, he decided to trust his instincts. "Yeah, Diane things are beginning to move, but right now, I really need to get to a phone." He turned toward the exit without waiting for a reply.

Steve walked across the parking lot to his car. He opened the door and tossed his bag behind the driver's seat. As he was turning to get in, it struck him that something was odd about the way the car was sitting. He walked around the car and found a flattened rear tire. Language unbefitting a school teacher escaped his lips as he stooped down to investigate the cause. A small pocket knife was punched through the tread. He suspected he now knew why Walen and Ballinger had been so low key during class. He grabbed his handkerchief and pulled the knife out of the tire. Wrapping it in the cloth, Steve reached in the car and dropped it into his bag.

He was feeling a little paranoid. It seemed to him that some unseen force was preventing him from contacting Mike. As he leaned against his car, it occurred to him that there was a phone booth near the café where Diane and he ate lunch on Saturday. He took off in that direction at a jog.

_**A/N: Just a note about phones. Until the advent of cel phones, trying to find a private place to make a call in a high school was damn near impossible. Classrooms did not and still do not have outside landlines for the most part. There usually are only a few outside phone lines in a school building. It also always amazes me when I watch the show how often our two heroes are looking for a phone, or using a phone booth, so I used it to my advantage in constructing the story. My, how the world has changed.**_

_**The California HUAC (House Un-American Activities Committee) investigated citizens suspected of subversive or disloyal acts and persons with suspected communist ties. While it is loosely associated with McCarthyism it had no direct link. It lasted in one form or another until 1975. The demonstration mentioned was one of the seminal events in the beginning of the Berkeley-centered free speech movement.**_


	24. Chapter 24

_**A/N: Thanks again for taking the journey on this twisting path with me. I hope it's been as entertaining and fun for you as it has been for me. My apologies to the basketball aficionados out there. I spent a lot of time as a mom watching high school basketball games. (As the mother of a 6' 6" son, it was bound to happen) I've even played in a number of Senior/Faculty games, but I don't claim to be an expert. So please excuse me if I got any of the terminology wrong.**_

Mike sat down in the chair opposite Rudy Olsen. "What's on your mind Mike?" he asked.

Mike laid out the fingerprint evidence against the two teenagers in the Mission High case.

"Seems pretty cut and dry. Why are you hesitant to bring them in?"

"Rudy, you know how high profile this is going to be once the story breaks. A murder in a school and the Superintendent and Commissioner's interest, plus the clout that Walen has; all our bases have to be covered. We need to get warrants for their cars and homes and have them searched when we bring them in. We don't want to give them any chance to destroy or move evidence. Since they're 18, we can bring them in without notifying their parents, but I'm sure they will lawyer up immediately.

"Sound reasonable, is there anything out there that might trip us up?"

"The thing we don't have is the ID on the third set of prints on the plan book, the ones that are a match for the prints from Mona's house. I'm hoping once we get them in here, they will roll on the third person. Steve thinks it might be someone on the staff. When he checked the lockers, it was pretty obvious they had been tipped off. We've been looking through bank records and we have two possibles. The most troubling thing is that we have no evidence as to motive. The carbons of the discipline files from Mona are illegible, the originals are gone. I talked to George Drew in Narcotics and he seems to think that these two are players in the drug trade at Mission, but we have nothing on that yet. I'm hopeful Steve has gotten something today, but I haven't heard from him."

Rudy looked troubled as he glanced at his watch. While they had solid physical evidence linking the two to the murder, there was nothing tangible that pointed to a motive. Trusting Mike's instincts implicitly Rudy queried, "If we are moving on them; who are you going to find at this hour to issue warrants?"

"That's where you come in Rudy. Who do you know that will help us out?"

The captain flipped through his rolodex, hoping to find a judge who was sympathetic to their cause.

Mike came back to his office, grabbed his coat and fedora and left off to Judge Liverman's office.

ooooooo

Steve entered the café and went over to the pay phone. It was an open wall mounted pay phone, not ideal for privacy, but there weren't any students around. He dropped in a coin, called Mike's desk phone number at Bryant Street and waited as the phone rang and rang. "Homicide, Haseejian," answered the voice on the other end.

"Norm, it's Steve. Where's Mike?"

"You just missed him, he headed off to Judge Liverman's office to get warrants for Walen and Ballinger."

"The prints are in?"

"Yep, we got a match for both on the plan book. We've got Balliger's prints on the kiln and Walen's print on the jacket."

Steve thought about that for a moment. He really hadn't gotten a "killer" vibe from either young man. He considered that his lack of conviction as to their culpability might be a function of his blind spot when it came to young people. "What about the third set of prints and the ones at Mona's house?"

"Nope, nothing there."

"I might have a lead on that, but maybe when we get them in the box, we can get them to give us the third suspect. Listen Norm, I've got something on Walen and Ballinger as well. I've saw drugs packaged for sale in both their lockers."

"They were dumb enough to put stuff back in their lockers?" Norm said incredulously.

Steve cut back in, knowing his time was limited, "Yeah, can you believe that? I think we want to get Narcotics in on an "official" search. Call George Drew in and let him know what I found. I think that's who Mike talked to."'

Moving down the suspect list in his mind, Steve then continued, "Did you get anything when you looked at the bank records?"

"Unfortunately too much, we found anomalies in the deposits for both Bader and Molen."

Steve really hadn't wanted to hear that. Now he didn't know who or what to believe.

"Say, do one more thing for me. Make sure Mike knows about the lockers and coordinates with Narcotics when he makes the arrest, also tell him I found the photographs Mona mentioned in her letter and…" Steve trailed off as a group of students entered the café and sat within earshot of the phone. "I'll have to get back to you, Norm, a group of students just came in." In a low voice he added, "Tell Mike not to call the school; the line might not be secure."

Steve hung up the phone and looked at his watch. It was going on 5 and he needed to get back to school. He didn't want to skip the game and raise the suspicion of Walen and Ballinger, especially if his cover was in question, before Mike could make an arrest. Eying the students impatiently, he hoped that they weren't going to hang around. Lamentably, one of them acknowledged him, asking about the game that evening. Steve took that as his cue to leave. He'd have to try to figure out a way to make contact with Mike later.

Steve walked back to the school. Even though he didn't yet see the connection, he really want to get the finger print cards for Clarence Anglin from the feds. _I guess it will wait, _he thought to himself as he entered the front door of the school.

ooooooooo

Mike's temper was nearly at the boiling point when he finally got to see Judge Liverman. "He knows I'm here and time is of the essence?" Mike repeated to the Judge's secretary, impatiently. She assured him that the judge would be with him as soon as he could.

Mike had been cooling his heels in the outer office for over an hour when the door finally opened.

"What can I do for you Lieutenant Stone?" The judge asked as Mike jumped up and proceeded through the door. Fortunately, the judge was easily convinced of Mike's need for warrants, but it still took another hour or so to cross all the T's and dot the I's. It was well past 7 pm when Mike got back to Bryant Street. The basketball game had started at 6 pm, so he knew exactly where Walen and Ballinger, and Steve for that matter, were.

ooooooooooo

Steve grabbed his gym bag from the bottom drawer of his desk, and laid his jacket and tie on top of his desk. He locked his classroom and walked toward the gym. He was surprised at how many people, students and what appeared to be alumni, were already seated; waiting for the game. When he looked up, he spied Jeannie and a few of her high school friends seated in the bleachers. She caught his eye and gave him an encouraging smile, he acknowledged her discretely, nodding slightly in her direction.

The gym had a rowdy air of anticipation. The senior team was already dressed and on the court, shooting around. Steve spied Ballinger and Walen lounging on chairs on the student side of the court. Curiously, Walen tonight wore his brown and gold Mission High warm up suit. When they caught sight of Steve they traded smirks and Walen murmured something in Ballinger's ear. Steve ducked into the locker room to change. Most of the faculty team was already changed and assembled when he entered.

"Steve," Mr. Settle called, "we thought you were going to chicken out on us."

Steve replied with a non-committal shrug and went off to change. When he came back, Mr Settle huddled the ten teacher team together. Much to Steve's chagrin, he was in the starting lineup, along with Diane and 3 of the younger staff members.

"It's only 10 minute quarters so we will sub out after about 5. If you need to come out, just get my attention," Mr. Settle said, reassuring the older faculty members hanging to the back. "Starters, you will probably be playing the lion's share of the minutes tonight, just because, frankly, you guys are in the best shape. If you are unsure out there, the plan is just feed Diane the ball, she'll know what to do with it. My best advice is, don't get hurt. We do have referees, but they're not going to call a lot of fouls, they just want to make sure nobody gets too banged up. This is supposed to be, um, fun you know."

As the team got up to leave, Diane held back and walked out with Steve. "Are you ready for this," she asked."

"I'm just hoping to stay out of the way," said Steve nervously, tilting his head and running his hand through his hair.

The gym was a cacophony of noise as the teachers exited the locker room door. Steve went out onto the court with trepidation. He was not happy to see Walen, who was taller and bulkier, line up next to him on the circle. Ballinger was on the court as well, and although he was slightly shorter than Steve, being a wrestler, he was more heavily muscled. Diane was positioned to take the tip at center court across form a senior boy.

When the ref threw the ball up in the air, Steve quickly found himself in a heap on the floor, as Walen used the equivalent of a hip check to knock him off his feet. There was a collective "ooooww" from the crowd as Walen grabbed the ball off the tip and dribble toward the student's basket. Steve righted himself and trailed the play, following Mike's advice and staying well away from the key. Unfortunately, that put him in the high post, to the right of the basket guarding Ballinger, who took the opportunity to throw a well-placed elbow into Steve's upper torso as he grabbed the kick out from Walen. That elicited a grunt from Steve, but he was ready for the aggressive play this time. He stood his ground and reached around Ballinger, slapping the ball out from behind.

Diane scooped up the ball and broke for the teacher's basket, easily out pacing the students with her long legs and put in an easy layup. As she made her way back to the other side of the court, the seniors inbounded the ball. When she passed Steve, she mouthed, "Are you OK?" He shook her off as he straddled the mid line.

Walen brought the ball up court after the inbound. Now it was Steve's turn. He stood his ground at half court and pivoted his right foot into Walen's path. Because he was paying more attention to impressing the crowd, he tripped and fell heavily over Steve's foot. While not technically a _legal_ play, if they were going to play dirty… This move brought another loud gasp from the crowd. Steve scrambled for the ball and picked it up and this time, he took it back for the layup. Walen glared at him as he trotted back up the court and received a high five from Diane.

For the next few minutes, Steve managed to stay out of harm's way as play went quickly up and down the court. He was getting a little winded. The students were trying to speed up the game to tire out the staff. However, what the teachers lacked in youth and stamina, they more than made up for with experience and aggressive play, and they were soon up by eight. As promised, Mr. Settle called a time out, subbing out all 5 teachers including Steve and Diane.

Steve grabbed a paper cup of water and dropped onto a chair, breathing hard. Diane flopped down next to him using a towel to wipe the sweat from her eyes. "Sometimes I forget that I'm not 18 anymore when I get out there." She smiled and said between panted breaths. "Don't get too comfortable, Keller," our backups aren't doing so well," In fact, when Steve looked up the second team of teachers had already given back 6 of the 8 point lead and Mr. Settle was eyeing them both of them in anticipation.

"You two ready?" he asked as he waved them over to the scorer's table. Steve and Diane checked in and crouched down in front of the table and waited for a stoppage of play. Steve noticed Ballinger and Walen were also checking back in. The seniors tied the game and Diane and Steve jumped up and tapped out two of the older staff members.

Diane looked over at Steve, "Do me a favor and stay away from those two, would you?"

Steve looked at her in exasperation, with raised eyebrows and upraised palms, as if to say, "What do you think I am trying to do?"

The crowd noise increased dramatically as the students in the bleachers anticipated more fireworks between the two teams. Steve took the ball from the ref behind the student basket. The seniors had decide to press the inbound pass and it took all of Steve's effort to see around a jumping student to feed Diane the ball. Ballinger came up behind Diane and poked the ball free, feeding it to Walen in the paint. Unfortunately, Steve was in his path to the basket. Steve stood square to the oncoming student and raised his arms, trying to draw the charge. Walen dropped his shoulder and lumbered into Steve, once again knocking him onto the floor. Because of his vulnerable position, when Steve went down this time, the back of his head smacked the floor with a sickening crack. The crowd collectively groaned.

Jeannie stood and looked on in horror as he hit the ground for the second time in the game, truly worried about Steve and the way the Walen and Ballinger seemed to be targeting him. She also wondered where Mike was. He was to have attended the game this evening, but she saw no sign of him.

The referee at last stepped in and called the charge foul on Walen, much to his angered surprise. Steve sat up slowly and tried to shake the stars from in front of his eyes. Diane came over, offered her hand and pulled him up from the floor.

"You sure you're OK?" she queried with concern in her voice.

Steve rubbed the back of his head. There was no blood, but he already felt a knot forming where his head had impacted the floor. He was sure a headache of epic proportions would be on tap for later that evening.

"I'm fine," he said as he released her hand. The audience responded with relieved applause when Steve jogged to foul line on the opposite side of the court. Surprising himself, Steve dropped two perfect foul shots, to the annoyance of Walen and Ballinger. That put the teachers back up by 2 as time expired in the first period.

Steve sat out a good portion of the second quarter with an ice pack pressed to the back of his now aching head. While he was out, the teacher's held their own and were still up by two when he jogged back onto the court.

He got back into the action hesitantly and acquitted himself admirably as time was running down in the second quarter. With only a few seconds left, Steve gathered in a rebound from an errant senior shot and saw Diane breaking for the offensive zone. He hit her with a long outlet pass and watched in awe as she dunked the basketball. The crowd went crazy as he thought sheepishly_, I didn't even know girls could do that!_

The teacher team streamed onto the court as the half expired and went jubilantly into the locker room up by 4.

ooooooo

Norm relayed Steve's message to Mike. After telling him about the drugs, Mike asked if George Drew had been called.

"He's waiting on you, Mike. Ring him as soon as you're ready to move on the dynamic duo." Norm added.

Mike didn't want to give the teens a chance to get home before the search warrants we executed, so he decided it would be best to pick them up at school, after the basketball game. If Inspector Drew tagged along, he'd be able to get the lockers checked at the same time. He was still troubled by the third set of prints and was dismayed that Steve hadn't been able to finish his conversation about the pictures. Mike knew he would be able to talk to Steve soon enough. With the evidence they had and the arrest of Walen and Ballinger, there would be no reason to keep Steve at the school.

Mike sent Dan and Lee to the teen's residences, with search warrants in hand. He took Haseejian to Mission High to pick up the students. "We'll get the principal and open the lockers first," Mike informed Norm and George Drew, whom had met them in the lot. "Then we'll wait till after the game and the crowd clears to pick up Walen and Ballinger when they come up out of the locker room. We can get a couple of uniforms to search the kids' cars once we pick them up."


	25. Chapter 25

Steve sat on a bench in the locker room with his head leaning against the wall. Diane sat down next to him and handed him a couple of aspirin and a cup of water. "Here, you're gonna need these. What the hell were you thinking, standing in there like that?" she asked.

He was asking himself the very same question, knowing that he was going to have a few impressive bruises as companions to a very large headache. "I don't know, I guess I just got caught up in the game." Steve took the aspirin and downed the water.

"By the way, nice pass. I haven't done that in a long time." Diane stated matter-of-factly.

"Hey, about that, where did you learn to dunk like that? I didn't think that was legal in the women's game."

"Oh, it's not. I learned that on the playground. In high school, I was so much taller than all the girls, I used to work out with the guys team sometimes.

Mr. Pence entered the locker room to offer some encouraging words to his teacher team. The 15 minute intermission was nearly over and the staff, amid moans and groans, rose to return to the gym. Mr. Pence held Steve back. "Mike just arrived with two other officers, we are going up to the student lockers now. He wants to arrest Walen and Ballinger after the crowd clears out, when they come out of the locker room. He said to make sure you are over there right after the game. He doesn't want them slipping out. Looks like this will be your last day with us."

Steve was a little concerned that Mike had shared his plan with the Principal. Even though he was a longtime friend of Mike's, there was definitely an information leak with someone on the staff. He guessed he'd have to trust Mike's instinct about his friend. In retrospect, Steve had probably shared too much with Diane as well, but he guessed it was all water under the bridge at this point, since the case was pretty much a wrap.

He thanked Mr. Pence and opened the gym door. The clock was just counting down to zero as he arrived at the faculty bench. He trotted onto the court and stood next to Diane. She leaned over and warned him in a low voice, "Don't do anything stupid. I know you want to beat those two knuckleheads, but it is only a game. Really, it's not worth it."

He didn't need the warning. Not only was he tired and headachy, now he was thinking about the impending arrest and his real job. He'd have to take care not to get distracted. He caught site of Norm and Mike, and a third officer he did not recognize, meeting Mr. Pence at the door near the far end of the gym. Mike looked in briefly and gave Steve a subtle acknowledging glance and disappeared into the hall.

He heard his name being called and turned to find the half had already begun. Ballinger was bearing down on his position. Steve turned and broke to cover the oncoming student. _Way to keep your head in the game, _he thought.

ooooooo

Mr. Pence led the officers back to the office to retrieve the locker numbers and combinations. They followed him up the stairs to Walen's locker. Just as Steve had indicated, the drugs, packaged for resale, were in plain view once it was opened. The bag was carefully photographed and removed. Inspector Drew confiscated the evidence and slipped it into another bag, in the hopes that the lab could raise some fingerprints off the plastic and compare them with known dealers in the area. Mike thought it unusual that Mr. Pence did not seem at all surprised by the discovery, but said nothing. The locker clanged and echoed in the empty hall as they closed it and proceeded to Ballinger's Locker.

"I'm going to be sorry to see that young man of yours leave," Mr. Pence began as they made their way down the hall. "I peeked in on him today and caught part of the discussion the students were having. I think he could be a very fine teacher, if he ever wanted a change in career. He seems to really care."

"That's exactly what makes him a good cop, Kirby and there's not a chance I'd let you poach him after I've finally trained him up!" Mike said with a proud smile. He had half expected this, knowing that Steve was the kind of person that would succeed at anything he put his mind to.

As they passed classrooms, they noticed the doors were open and the lights were on, the night crew of custodians finishing their rounds for the evening. When they arrived at their destination, Mike opened the locker and once again, the drugs were in plain sight. "Not exactly criminal masterminds," Norm commented with a laugh. Mike was not laughing, he actually had a feeling that it was all a little too neat and easy. Steve might be right in thinking that these two were not murderers, but the finger prints and jacket were awfully compelling evidence. He hoped that, for once, when they had the students in custody the loose ends would tie up into a neat package.

"That does it for me, Mike." said Inspector Drew and he dropped the evidence in a bag. I want to get these to the lab, tonight. Also, if you're ok with it Mike, I want to sit in when you question them. Ring me when you're ready. I really hope we can get who they're working with."

"Will do, George, but remember the murder investigation is my first priority." Mike responded in a no nonsense tone.

"That's as it should be Mike, we just want them off the street and out of the school. If they can lead us to a bigger fish, all the better," said the Inspector as he made for the staircase and the exit.

Mike and Norm followed Mr. Pence back to the gym and took seat in the bleachers as the third quarter ended tied at 44.

oooooooo

Steve was annoyed. He'd had just about enough of the dynamic duo. They'd taken every opportunity to bump, elbow and generally rough him up, whenever they were in his vicinity, whether it was related to the play or not. To his satisfaction, he had not been shy about giving back as good as he got. Consequently, both Walen and Ballinger were a little worse for wear. For him, the third quarter had been an elaborate game of cat and mouse, trying to play basketball while avoiding bodily harm. As the quarter ended, Steve spied Mike and Norm in the stands; act one of this evening's event apparently accomplished.

He dropped into a chair and grabbed a towel, happy to have a breather. Wiping the sweat from his face and neck, he looked down the row at the other teachers, most of whom looked either spent or were nursing assorted bumps and bruises. Much as he didn't want to go back in the game, there was no way he was going to let Walen and Ballinger win. He looked around the gym and caught sight of Jeannie and her friends. He chuckled thinking what she would say about his needing to win being such a _guy thing_. He tossed the towel on the chair and entered the court as the 4th quarter began.

Steve was happy to see the Ballinger was on the bench. That only left Walen to avoid. He inbounded the ball to Diane and trailed the play from midcourt. Even though he was tired, he felt pretty confident. No one would ever mistake him for a basketball player, but he hadn't embarrassed himself too badly at this point.

Steve managed to avoid Walen for the first few minutes of the fourth period. After the teachers went up by 6, Ballinger checked back in. With both students on the court, it became harder and harder for Steve to stay out of their way. More than once he found himself double teamed, sandwiched between the two, making it impossible to move, let alone play effectively. Fortunately, that freed Diane up to shoot at will and the teachers maintained their lead until the final two minutes.

As time was waning and with the game slipping away, the student became more aggressive in their attempts to foul the teacher team and get the ball back. Shoddy free throws by the faculty brought the score to within 2. Diane went to the line with 15 seconds left and missed the second of two free throws. Unfortunately for Steve, that put him under the basket, jumping for the rebound, flanked by Walen and Ballinger.

Mike and the rest of the crowd stood and watched as Steve and the two students went down in a tangle arms and legs. Steve landed badly on his ankle and came up hopping slightly when Diane pulled him up by the hand. While not terrible, it was just one more reason the game could not end soon enough for Steve. He hobbled over to the bench and watched as time expired giving the teachers a two point victory.

After the game, the raucous crowd streamed out of the bleachers and onto the court. The teams shook hands and retreated to the locker rooms. Once Walen and Ballinger left the gym, Steve limped over to where Mike and Norm were sitting with Mr. Pence. Jeannie rushed down the bleachers and met her father and Steve.

She hugged her father and looked at Steve with alarm. "Are you going to be alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine, nothing that a little ice and a hot shower won't cure," Steve responded in typical fashion. In reality, he was beat, as well as a little beat up from the rough game.

Jeannie's girlfriends made their way down the stands. "Nice game!" they chimed with huge smiles, as they came abreast of the group. "Hey, Jeannie, aren't you going to introduce us?"

Steve was a little more standoffish than normal with Jeannie and her friends. She looked at him sideways, wondering what was up. He really needed to talk to Mike, but Jeannie's friends didn't seem to take the hint. After introductions, Mike noticed that the gym had just about cleared and many of the student team members where exiting the locker room.

"Jeannie, weren't you girls going out after the game?" Mike asked with a pointed look.

Jeannie got the message, "Oh, right Mike," Jeannie said and made her goodbye, practically dragging the girls out with her. Mike and Steve could hear them giving Jeannie a hard time about leaving as they walked away.

"We're going to pay for that later, I suppose, aren't we, Mike?" Steve said grimacing.

"More than likely, you know Jeannie," Mike replied with a shake of the head.

Mike, Steve and Norm started to make their way over to the locker room door. Melony, Marc's girlfriend, was hanging around waiting for his arrival. The locker room door opened and Walen and Ballinger came out and stood face to face with Mike, Steve and Norm.

Mike pulled out his badge and began to speak as Norm and Steve made a move in to hem in the teens. The students glanced at each other, pushed Melony in Mike's direction and broke in opposite directions as she screamed. Walen barreled through Steve and Ballinger tried the same with Norm.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" Steve shouted with exasperation as he pushed up from the floor, ignoring his throbbing ankle and pursued Walen out the door and up the hallway. Norm, who had quite a bit more bulk, sloughed off the attempted tackle, subdued and cuffed the struggling Ballinger and read him his rights. Mike ducked around the screaming girl and out the opposite gym door in the hopes of corralling the fleeing teen between him and Steve.

When Walen saw Mike at the end of the hall he knew he was trapped. He turned back and ran toward Steve, swinging wildly as the detective came within arm's reach. No longer hindered by his teacher identity or an on-looking crowd of students, Steve blocked the initial punch, grabbed Walen's arm and used his momentum to force the shocked teen to the ground. When Mike pulled even with him, he had Walen pinned to the floor with his knee on his back and was in the process of immobilizing his arm. Mike handed over his cuffs which Steve applied with relish and read him his rights. Walen glared at Mike and Steve as they walked him out toward the main entrance. "Just wait till my father hears about this," screamed the entitled teen, as Mike handed him off to waiting uniformed officers.

"I think you enjoyed that a little too much, hotshot." Mike chided Steve after Walen was out of earshot.

"Uh, yeah," Steve replied, slightly embarrassed at his exuberance in restraining Walen. "That kid's been a pain in the ass since I walked in the door here."

Mike chortled at his partner's response. He looked at Steve, disheveled and covered in sweat after the game. "Say, why don't you do us all a favor and shower and change before you come to the station. I assume you want me to wait for you before we question them."

"Damn straight. Give me 45 minutes."

"Make that 30, buddy boy, and by the way, very smooth on the basketball court, are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine. Come on Mike, give me break, I did ok out there. You only saw one quarter."

"_Sure you did_, _buddy boy, sure you did." _Mike intoned as touched Steve's shoulder affectionately, glad that Steve's school teaching days were officially over. Steve walked deliberately toward the locker room as Mike left the school. Just as he was entering the gym, Steve suddenly turned around, remembering he wanted to tell Mike about the photos, but the tan LTD was leaving the parking lot when Steve made it out to the main door.

When he reentered the gym, there were only a few people left milling around. Diane was just coming out of the locker room, her face still flushed from the game.

"Hey, Keller, a bunch of us are going out for a beer to celebrate. Join us?" she asked.

"Sorry, duty calls. We arrested Walen and Ballinger, tonight. They are on their way to the station right now. Looks like I'm done here."

"You really think is was them?" She knew the two were pampered jerks, but couldn't believe they were killers. "You think they killed Mona?" she inquired, suddenly serious, her joy in the victory over the students evaporating before his eyes.

"I don't know, Diane, but that's where the evidence pointed."

"Well, it's been real, Keller. Take care and thanks." She said quietly, "I guess I'll see you around." She didn't wait for a reply as she walked across the gym.

Steve was a little confused as he added, "I'll call, ok?" He shook his head, she really was the most exasperating women he had ever met.

Steve hit the locker room and quickly showered and changed. He stopped by A112, picked up his coat and tie and locked the classroom door. He checked his watch. It was now close to 9:30 and the building was deserted, with only the emergency lights on in the hall as he made his way to the main door. It locked with a resounding click as he exited. Walking through the parking lot, he once again got the strange feeling that he was being watched from above. He glanced back at the tower, concentrating hard in the darkness, but saw nothing.

"Oh, man," he said to no one in particular as he shut his eyes, inclined his head to the heavens and ran his hands through his still damp hair. With all that had happened in the last few hours, he'd totally forgot about the flat! He cursed Walen and Ballinger as he tried to decide what to do. He was tired, his ankle throbbed and his head ached. He had two choices, neither one of which was particularly appealing. Change the tire, in the dark, chilly lot, getting grimy and incurring Mike's wrath at his tardiness or call the station and get a lift, and endure the ribbing about his inability to change a simple flat. Wanting to be in on the interviews with the dynamic duo, he chose the latter.

He grabbed the flashlight from the trunk, knowing that the lobby area where the payphones were located was dark and walked slowly back to the school. He unlocked the door and checked the alarm, which to his bewilderment, had not been set. Walking down the hall, his faltering steps echoed in the darkened corridor. He turned on his flashlight.

As he reached the lobby, the hair on the back his neck stood up. He turned quickly as he heard a noise and swung the beam of his flashlight in an arc, searching through the darkness for the source. Seeing nothing, he stood the light on the floor next to the phone and dug in his pocket for a coin. He caught a whiff of Lysol as the world went dark.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: I'm not a lawyer, I don't even play one on TV. LOL. So please be kind. I did my best with the interview section. Thanks for the continued interest and reviews.**

Mike looked at his watch. It had been well over an hour since he had gotten back to the station. What was keeping Steve? Walen and Ballinger had been booked and fingerprinted and promptly lawyered up. The elder Walen was already present in full bluster, demanding to see his son. Mike had little energy for him. He continued his tirade while awaiting the arrival of his attorney. Mike went to his office and called Inspector Drew in Narcotics.

"George, this is Mike Stone, any word from the lab on the drugs?"

"Yeah Mike, they're legit. Even if you don't get them for murder, we have 'em dead to rights for possession with internet to distribute, and they're both adults so, I see some hard time in their future."

"You get any prints off the bags?"

"Too many. The guys are down in the lab comparing them now. For sure we have Walen and Ballinger's prints, but there are plenty more to check. We're hoping to turn up something. If not, maybe we can plea deal for their supplier."

"_Now, wait a minute_, Inspector." Mike began, "What happened to the murder comes first?"

Haseejian poked his head in the door, "Mike, Walen's mouthpiece is here. What do you want me to do with him?"

Mike put his hand over the receiver, "Bring Walen up from holding, put him in interview 1. I want to talk to the kids separately. Let him talk to his lawyer, but I don't want the father anywhere near him, got me."

"You got it, Mike." Haseejian responded turning on his heels.

Mike turned his attention back to the phone, "Give him 15 minutes to talk to his lawyer and we'll be ready to start with Walen. You're welcome to come and sit in but remember, no deals until we sweat him about the murder."

"It's your show, Mike, I'll be up in 15."

Mike got up and got some coffee. It had been a long day already, and he was looking at another few hours of interviews before his day was over. He pulled out the plastic bag with the jacket and fabric swatch and placed it atop his desk. He also grabbed the envelope with the plan book and the other threatening notes and the file containing the lab reports on the fingerprint evidence. Inspector Drew entered his office with the reports on the drugs found in the teen's locker and added them to the stack. As he got up to head to interview with Walen, he glanced at the clock. It was nearly eleven pm and still no sign of Steve. He had a very bad feeling. _Where are you, buddy boy?_

oooooo

Awoken by the sound of people arguing, Steve shook his head, trying dislodge the fug that enveloped his brain. He regretted it instantly, as a deep ache announced its authority over his thinking. He felt like five miles of bad road and when he finally gathered the resolve to open his eyes, he saw virtually nothing. His hands and feet were tied, although tying his feet was probably overkill with the way his ankle felt at this point. The room he was in seemed small and damp, with a sliver of light creeping under the door to his right. He tried to put together a sequence of events, but the last thing he remembered was hunting for change so he could make a phone call, and then nothing.

"Why the hell did you grab him, you know he's a cop!" a woman shouted shrilly.

"Exactly, he's a cop. I don't know how he did it, but he had the article laying on his desk! He must have found what she hid." the man retorted. He had searched Mona's room repeatedly, and had never found any incriminating material, beyond what Mona had posted on her bulletin board before Christmas, the picture that had started this whole thing.

"But they arrested the kids, everything was working perfectly."

It doesn't matter, he would have figured it eventually and there's no way I'm going back!"

Although they were quite loud, between the heavy closed door and the drone of some kind of machinery, the voices were impossible to identify beyond male and female.

"You're such an idiot," she countered. "I bet he didn't even make the connection! All you had to do was wait one more day. With the evidence I planted, he would have been gone tomorrow, and you'd be in the clear!"

The voices dropped in volume and Steve struggle to hear more of the conversation. He wondered how long he'd been out, and exactly where he was, but an insistent pounding in his head made stringing thoughts together difficult.

"Does anyone suspect you?" the man asked, with his volume creeping up again.

"Are you kidding me? That moronic drug-dealing teen, his friend and his father think I'm working for them. The rest of the school," she added boastfully, "thinks I walk on water."

"Well, now that we have him, what are we going to do?"

"I have the money Walen paid me to take care of his boy. I took care of him alright, right up to the point when he got arrested. Much as I love it here, let's just blow town. John is in Vegas, we could go make a new start there. Did Keller see you?"

"No, of course not, I'm smarter than that."

"If you were smarter than that, we wouldn't be here. Sometimes, it's hard to believe we are part of the same family. You know, you should have left as soon a Mona recognized you. But, noooo, you had it all under control." The woman shot back, with growing agitation. "Getting you this job was a mistake. Your coming back to San Francisco was an even bigger mistake, even after ten years."

"I did find that kid's jacket, you have to admit that was inspired."

"Getting that jacket from the locker room trash was the only intelligent thing you've done so far."

The man speaking considered his partners words, "Vegas seems like a good idea and you know, we don't even have to kill him. We can just dump him in the desert somewhere on the way, by the time he walks out, _if he walks out_, we'll be long gone. But not yet, let's wait a couple of days, nobody will find him down here."

Steve shivered at the thought of being stranded anywhere in the high desert between here and Las Vegas. Some of the stretches were so desolate… He dismissed that idea and began to contemplate the conundrum of the locked room.

The loud discussion outside the door began again in earnest.

"I don't know, Stone will be all over this place if Keller doesn't turn up. I think sooner rather than later, while the Lieutenant is still busy with Walen and Ballinger. Not tonight, I'll need to cook up an excuse to leave for a couple of days, and you, well, you can just walk away, that's how most of the custodians quit anyhow."

Steve thought of the people he had met in the school and it all finally started to make sense. He let a quiet, sardonic laugh escape his lips. Clark Fischer - Clarence Anglin, that wasn't even a good pun of an alias. How had he not seen it? It was unbelievable that Anglin had turned up after escaping from Alcatraz in '62, and Mona had recognized him. He tried to compare the picture from the paper to the innocuous janitor in his mind and it seemed to fit, for all the good it did him. Then he thought, Mike. If somehow Mike could get his notes from the car… then maybe…

As if Fischer was reading Steve's mind, he spoke again, "What are we going to do with his car?"

"That's easy," the woman said with a laugh, "I can get the cops to tow any vehicle that's left on the lot after midnight. It will be some time before anybody finds it in impound."

oooooo

Mike and the Inspector entered the room. Mike introduced himself and George Drew, clearly indicating that Drew was from Narcotics and took seats across the table from Walen and his lawyer. Marc shot a worried look to his attorney.

"Marc, do you know why you're here?" Mike smiled, using his most fatherly tone. The teen began to speak, but his lawyer put his hand on his arm.

"Lieutenant Stone, my client knows about the charges, which he denies categorically. We want to clear this up as soon as possible."

Mike glared at the lawyer, "If you don't mind, sir," he began again, "I'd like to hear from your client."

The lawyer nodded his head and Mike again turned his attention to the teenager.

"Let's start at the beginning, Ok? When was the last time you saw Miss Holtzbaur?"

"I had her 7th period on the day before Christmas Holiday, I swear I didn't see her after that."

"So you never went back to her room later that day?" Mike continued as he put Mona's plan book on the table and carefully opened it to the page with the threat that had begun the whole investigation.

Marc looked at his lawyer quizzically. The lawyer nodded his head at the teen, impelling Marc to speak. He was sure that they had identified his client's prints on the book or he wouldn't be here.

"Well, we did go back."

"We meaning you and Mitchell Ballinger?" Mike interjected.

"Um, yeah. The old bat had planning eighth period and wasn't in her room. She was always on our case. We just wanted to scare her, so she would leave us alone and wouldn't testi..." Marc's lawyer hushed his client before he said anything more.

Mike smiled at the lawyer, "So, let's be clear, you went back and wrote this note on her book. Then what happened?"

"Well, we left. I needed to get to the gym, we had a game that night, Mitchell had practice and the bell was about to ring."

"So you never saw her again?"

"I think my client just said that Lieutenant, can we get on with this?"

Mike pulled out the bag with the pink copies of the referrals and the other threatening notes. "What can you tell me about these?"

"May I?" Marc's lawyer asked as he reached for the evidence. Mike nodded and the lawyer paged through the sheets. He looked back at Mike with a smug smile of his own. "Listen Lt. Stone, this," he waved his hand over the documents, "is nothing. You can't read most of the carbons, and Marc already said that he helped to write the notes. So, if you don't mind, let's cut to the chase, or I think we are done here." It was Marc's turn to give an arrogant glare to Mike.

Mike pulled the torn jacket out of the evidence bag and placed it on the table, "What can you tell me about this, Mr. Walen?" Mike stated simply.

oooooooo

As Steve's eyes adjusted to the minimal light, he got a better feel for his surroundings. It was some kind of supply closet. The voices outside the door had quieted for the time being, but the mechanical hum continued. He figured he was either in the basement or if Fischer's comments could be trusted, the subbasement where the boilers were located. He'd seen it on the building plans the day he had spent with Jeannie and Diane. That seemed like an eternity ago, when in reality it was just a week or so past.

He tested the bindings on his hands and his feet. While tight, they did not seem insurmountable. With his hands behind his back, he couldn't address the ties on his ankles, but he could use them to push himself across the floor towards the shelves on the opposite side of the room. As he moved, his body protested from the various bump and bruised he had incurred during the basketball game.

He reached the shelves and looked for something useful on the bottom three. Nothing. He scooted down the row, checking all the shelves that were within his sight line and saw a tool box eye high on the last shelf. Bingo. Now if he could boost himself up and get his hands on it, without dumping the contents of the shelf over, he might have a chance. Steve heard movement outside the door and froze. The trace light coming from under the door extinguished, leaving him in complete darkness.

_Great, _he though.

oooooo

The jacket Mike produced was identical to the one Walen currently had on. Marc's lawyer spoke.

"What is this supposed to be?"

"This belongs to your client."

"Where did you get that?" Walen blurted before his lawyer could silence him.

The lawyer quickly regrouped, "As you can see, my client is wearing his warmup jacket. What makes you think it's his and if I might ask, how does it connect my client to the murder of Miss Holtzbaur?"

Mike turned up the collar of the jacket. "I think if you look closely, you will see a fingerprint under the collar. Your fingerprint Mr. Walen. Can I ask if you know your blood type?"

Marc's lawyer cut in, "Sure you can Lieutenant, with a court order." Looking at his client he admonished, "Marc don't say anything."

Then addressing Mike again he added, "You still haven't told us how it connects."

Mike went on, pulling the fabric swatch out of a small bag and matching it to the tear in the jacket. "We found this stuck in the kiln in the pottery studio at Mission High. The kiln where we found the remains of Mona Holtzbaur's body." He knew it was all circumstantial, but Mike hoped the revelation would startle the impulsive teen into saying something stupid.

Walen's lawyer looked slightly green at the revelation. He peered from his client to Mike, "Lieutenant, may I speak to my client privately?"

"Sure," Mike said as he and Inspector Drew exited the room.

"When we go back in, George," Mike said as the door closed, "I want you to hit them with the drug evidence. Then we'll move onto our other suspect and see where we stand."

oooooo

Alexander Walen III was venting his ire on a very weary Norm Haseejian as Mike came down the hall.

"… I know the Commissioner and." He stopped speaking at the sight of Mike and redirected his rant. "Lt. Stone, I demand to see my boy immediately!"

Norm looked relieved. Mike smile, turned and, in his most conciliatory tone, addressed Walen. "Mr. Walen, I'm terribly sorry this is taking so long. I tell you what, why doesn't Sgt. Haseejian here get you a cup of coffee while you wait. We are almost done with our interview and then we will be happy to let you speak with your son."

"Walen cut though Mike's ersatz hospitality, "He's just a boy Lieutenant. You know I'm friends with the Commissioner, when hears about this, well, I have the right…"

Mike didn't like bullies. He stopped Walen midsentence with a glare, "In the eyes of the law, _sir_, your son is now an adult, and frankly I don't care who you call, you'll see him when we're done with him, and not a moment before. Norm, get him out of here, he can wait in the lobby."

Walen was momentarily speechless as he was led away by the grinning Sargent.

When Mike walked into the nearly deserted bull pen, Lee Lessing was just hanging up the phone. Mike called over to him. "Lee, has Steve come in yet?"

"No, Mike I haven't seen him, is he overdue?" Lessing could hear the growing concern in Mike's voice.

Mike checked the time, surprised that it was past midnight, "Yeah, by about three hours." _Where the hell was that boy? _"Do me a favor, it's probably nothing, but call dispatch and have them send a black and white by Mission High. Ask them to see if Steve's car is still in the lot."

_**A/N: The school I work for does in fact have this policy about vehicles in the parking lot and has had it for many years. Additionally, I had my car towed for a parking violation during the time period of this story. Trying to track it down, as most cities used independent contractors to tow vehicles, was a nightmare. While I supposed it would be much easier for the police to find it, without computerized records, it would be a bit of a job.**_


	27. Chapter 27

_**A/N: A short snow day bonus! Thanks to all who are still reading and reviewing as we motor on toward the finish.**_

Steve sat on the floor with his back to the shelf, trying to decide the best way to access the tool box. He had seen it before the lights went out, but it was too deep on the shelf to nudge with the back of his head, even when he push himself up awkwardly on his hands. He needed to get either up on his feet or onto his knees so he could reach back and try to pull it closer to the edge. A matter of leverage and a little luck he decided.

He pulled his knees up tight to his chest and put his feet flat on the floor. His already throbbing ankle balked at the sudden change of position. If this was going to work, he needed to put most of his weight on one foot. He grabbed onto the vertical post behind his back and pushed off and up while sliding his feet back and planting on one foot. Just when he thought it might work, he overbalance forward and without his arm to counter, toppled to the ground. He laid on the floor for a few minutes breathing hard. He cursed silently and hoped to God that no one was within earshot.

As tired and sore as he was, Steve rethought his attempt as being a little too ambitious. Maybe a different approach. Steve worked himself back up to a seated position, keeping his legs off to the side. Putting his arms on the floor behind him, opposite his legs he pushed off and rocked until he had enough momentum to swing his torso up and roll his knees. Only this time, he used the shelf to stop himself from over-balancing in the opposite direction. After a few tries, he was finally successful.

Flush with accomplishment, Steve sat down momentarily on his calves and was overtaken by a fit of laughter. It all suddenly seemed too funny and ironic. After Mike's endless attempts to get him to church and atone for his cavalier ways, here he was stuck on his knees. Once back under control, he leaned against the shelf and blindly groped behind his back until he felt the handle of the tool box. He dragged it towards his body, flipped the latch open and pushed the lid up with his fingertips. Carefully probing the contents, it all seemed to be an odd assortment of duct tape, screwdrivers and pliers.

He finally struck pay dirt, and blood, when his fingertips grazed what seemed to be a utility knife of some type. He grasped the handle of the knife and drew the blade across the bonds restraining his wrists. After what seemed like an eternity, the ropes finally yielded to the blade and Steve freed his arms with one final yank.

He shook his newly freed limbs in an attempt to regain circulation before sitting back down to the side, stretching around and cutting his legs free. _Now what?_ Steve thought as he prodded the swelling around his ankle.

oooooooo

Mike sat down at his desk, took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. Inspector Drew came in and put a fresh cup of coffee in front of him.

"How long do you want to wait?" he asked as he sat down.

"Give them another few minutes, then we'll go back in." Mike responded, obviously distracted. He looked to the bull pen, where Lee was answering his desk phone. Lessing got up, walked to the office and leaned through the door.

"Mike, no luck on Steve's car, the lot is deserted. Do you want me to try him at home?"

"No, I'll take care of it, thanks Lee." Mike said as he picked up the phone. He dialed Steve's number, and listened to the phone ring unanswered.

Inspector Drew watched as a shadow of concern crossed Mike's face. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"It's Keller. He was supposed to come in and be a part of the interviews after he cleaned up a little, but he hasn't turned up and he hasn't checked in."

Mike again looked out to the bull pen, where Haseejian was returning from escorting Mr. Walen to the lobby.

"Haseejian," he called, raising his voice and attracting Norm's attention.

"What do you need Mike?" the detective asked upon entered the office.

"When you talked to Steve, did he say anything else, other than telling you about the drugs he found?"

Norm thought back to his conversation with Steve, which seemed like ages ago. "I think he said something about photographs and a letter, but someone walked in and he said he'd call back. Why? Hasn't he turned up yet?" Norm asked suddenly anxious.

"No, he hasn't, and he's not answering his phone.

Mike got up and stretched. It was late and he was tired. In truth, maybe he was overreacting. Steve had only been out of touch for a few hours, but the uneasy feeling that they had missed something rebounded in full. Torn between returning to the interview and hunting down his wayward partner, Mike addressed Haseejian. "Take Lessing and go check out Steve's place. If he's not there, call it in and get an ABP out on him and that car of his. We're going back in with Walen and his lawyer, let me know, as soon as you have something."

Mike followed Norm out the door and Inspector Drew rose and tailed him back to the interrogation room. Walen and his lawyer looked up as the detectives entered.

"Lt. Stone," the lawyer began, not even waiting for Mike to seat himself. "I think we can give you an explanation about the jacket. Marc?"

"It is my jacket, but I got rid of it, really. In the last game before Christmas, I got elbowed in the nose and it bled all over the place. The blood was on my hands when I put on the jacket. I knew it was never going to come out so, I chucked it in the bin in the locker room and had coach order me a new one. You can ask him, everybody on the team saw it!" Walen recounted.

Mike sat down and considered what the teen had said. He had already admitted to the notes. His volunteered explanation actually made a lot of sense and was easily checked out. A set up, maybe. Now he needed to talk to Ballinger. There was still the matter of his fingerprint on the kiln. "Can you give me your coach's name so we can check it out?" Mike asked and then made a note of it. If this panned out, then Steve's absence suddenly took on a more ominous note.

Marc relaxed a bit. It seemed as if the Lieutenant believed what he had just said. That made him all the more startled when the Narcotics officer spoke.

"There is one more thing we need to talk about," Inspector Drew began, as he retrieved a photograph from a file and put it on the table in front of the now uncomfortable teen. "What can you tell me about this, Marc?" It was a picture of Marc's locker, the drugs in situ.

Marc turned and gaped at his lawyer. The lawyer put his hands on the table and addressed his comments to the Inspector, "How about if you tell us what you think it is?"

Mike nodded his head and Drew began, "This evening, on a tip, with the principal's permission, and with him in attendance, the locker assigned to you at Mission High was opened and legally searched. The photograph is of the drugs we found and confiscated. Upon lab examination, it was determined that the bag contained heroin and marijuana. As you can see, it appears to be packaged for resale. Upon further investigation of the bag, your finger prints were identified." He pulled out another photograph. "In addition, upon the search of a locker, assigned to another student, a bag of what's been identified as amphetamines was found, also bearing your fingerprints."

Walen's lawyer looked pained. He had wrangled Marc out of a bunch of indiscretions, and it looked like the murder charge could be explained away, but this was pretty damning. He needed to meet with the elder Walen and the boy to discuss how to proceed. "Lieutenant Stone, I'm going to advise my client to remain silent on this matter. I think we are done for the time being. Mike agreed.

Mike had Marc Walen taken back to holding. While they waited for Mitchell to be brought up, he ducked out to check on Haseejian and Lessing's progress.

ooooooo

Steve retracted the blade of the utility knife into the handle and stuffed it in his pocket. Grabbing the shelving unit for support he hoisted himself up and gingerly tried to apply weight to his ankle. He knew it wasn't broken, he'd run down Walen earlier, with the help of a lot of adrenaline no doubt, but the extended period of inactivity had given the swelling time to build in earnest. The fact that there wasn't a break also didn't stop it from hurt like hell. He needed to wrap it somehow if he was going to walk out of there.

He bent over and searched around the tool box for the roll of duct tape. Leaning on the shelf, he left his shoe in place and used the tape to bind his ankle rigidly in place. Once again he tentatively tried the ankle. Much to his surprise, the tape seemed to be helping. He wouldn't be running any marathons, but he should be able to walk, albeit painfully. _Well, it might not be Marcus Welby certified,_ he thought to himself, _but it'll do__._

Steve made his way over to the door. He listened intently, but only heard what he assumed was the school heating plant. He put his hand on the doorknob and gave it a slight twist. Locked, of course. He ran his hand along the door until he found the light switch. If they hadn't heard him tumble before, he guessed he could risk it.

Once the light was on, he took inventory of himself and his surroundings. From the state of his clothes, covered with a healthy amount of dirt and grime, he guessed he was dragged into the room. To his astonishment, when he scanned the floor saw his keys laying on the ground, only a few feet from where he had been bound. He assumed they'd fallen out of his pocket, unbeknownst to Fischer and the mystery woman.

This was truly good news, for on the ring was the school pass key. The bad news was that it did him no good with the door directly in front of him, which was locked from the outside. He looked back to the shelves and to his intense relief, he saw a large crow bar. Things seemed to be going his way at last. He jammed the crow bar into the space between the door and the jam popping the lock. He turned off the light, slowly opened the door, and made his escape.

_**A/N: A little wink to MacGyver, the king of duct tape in this chapter. In reality, I have personally used duct tape for this purpose. Also, thanks to my 2O something son, who helped me work out the tied legs and hands behind the back escape scenario. Good thing nobody else was around to see that little adventure! The dodgy ankle, which my boy is prone to, was for him. I have also used a crow bar to open a locked door, it's actually pretty easy to do. (don't ask) If I can do it, Steve would be more than smart enough to accomplish the same task.**_


	28. Chapter 28

Mike was surprised to see Dan Healey by the coffee pot when he came into the bull pen.

"What time is it? I didn't think you guys were on till 1:30."

Dan nodded toward the clock, which had just passed 1:15 when Bill Tanner came through the door. Mike shook his head; Steve had been out of touch for over 4 hours. His tired mind slipped back to the nightmare he'd had about Steve. A voice pulled him back to the present.

"Mike what are you still doing here?" Bill asked with concern, although it was not unheard of to see Mike here in the middle of the night, it was never good news.

Mike brought the two detectives up to speed. Both men were more than a little bothered by Steve unexplained absence. Inspector Drew poked his head in from the hall. "Mike, Ballinger's up, are you ready?"

Mike turned towards the door, "Give me a minute, George."

He then addressed the two detectives, "Haseejian and Lessing are out checking on Steve's place. As soon as they call in, come and let me know, I'll be interviewing Ballinger. Also, after they're done at the apartment, tell them to head home. I'm going to need fresh thinkers in the morning if Steve doesn't turn up soon."

"Let's get this over with." Mike barked to Inspector Drew as he walked purposefully toward the door. "I just have a couple things I want to ask this kid. If his story lines up with Walen's, then you can have at him with the drug evidence. I don't know about you, but my gut is telling me that these kids, while arrogant little sob's, didn't have a thing to do with the murder. If that's the case, then…" Mike trailed off. Inspector Drew understood the implications of the teen's innocence in the murder and how it related to Mike's missing partner.

ooooooo

Steve exited the closet and made his way through the darkened boiler room. His aim was to get out of the building. If that was impossible however, he only needed to find some place to hole up for a few hours until the morning custodial crew came in at six. With a build this size, that shouldn't prove to be too much of a challenge. After that, the building would come back to life and he could just walk out.

That scenario would all depend on Fischer. He had already killed and kidnapped in an attempt to hide his identity. With his alias unraveling, who knew what he was capable of? Steve sincerely hoped that his too-confident captors assumed he would stay trapped and had already exited the building, but somehow that seemed overly optimistic. In addition, he had no read on the woman, other than that she had proven to be a superb actress. He just didn't know how desperate she actually was. If they were still here, he'd have to try and get help, before anybody else could be put in danger.

His immediate problem was figuring out exactly where he was and how to get up to the main floor. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize the building diagram in his head. The mechanical thrum of the boilers was not helping his already pounding head. He trained his eye on a faint red glow, which usually accompanied an exit sign in a public building. He moved with a deliberate pace toward the light, keeping the vibrating mechanics to his right. The room was hot, moist and smelled nauseatingly like fuel oil. He heard a scritching sound to his left and shuddered to think of what lived down here in the dark.

He was relieved to find out as he got closer that the glow was in fact an exit sign. He pulled the door a fraction of an inch towards himself and listened. He shivered as a cool breath of air spilled through the door. Hearing nothing, Steve exited and silently closed the door. So far so good.

After the faint light, the totally blackness was startling. Steve hugged the wall and follow it past multiple locked doors. Finally, it intersected into another hall. Unclear of which way was out, he decided go right. He again hugged the wall until he literally ran into a stair case, ramming his shins into the riser of the lowest step and tripping forward up the stair case. He caught himself with the palms of his hands, reopening the cuts on his fingertips and smearing blood on the steps.

After regaining his balance, and his breathing, he swiped the fresh blood collecting on his fingertips across his jacket and continued up the stairs with care. There was another welcome exit sign which provided a small amount of light on the landing. A door was directly in front of him and the stair wrapped around and continued up to the right. Steve made the turn to climb up the next flight. His heart stopped as he was blinded when the steps were suddenly illuminated. He quickly reversed course and made for the door he had just passed on the landing. Testing the door and finding it open, he went through and pulled it closed just as footfalls hit the top of the stairs.

His heart was pounding in his chest as once again he was plunged into total darkness.

oooooooo

Clark Fischer unlocked the basement door. His sister was being a pain in the ass and insisted they check to make sure their guest was still "sleeping peacefully." As he opened the door, he heard a loud thump. He stood very still, listened and hushed her as she came up close behind him. The building was always making creeks and groans, sometimes at night, it seemed almost alive.

Hearing nothing else, he flipped on the light and continued down the steps with his sister close on his heels. "I'm sure he's still out and even if he's not, he was tied and quite frankly, with the noise the boiler makes, he could shout himself silly and no one would hear." Fischer indicated confidently. They made the turn and continued down the lower flight to the subbasement.

As soon as they flipped on the lights in the boiler room, the open closet door alerted them to Steve escape. "Damn it, Clark! I told you he was pretty resourceful. I knew this would happen." The woman said as they turned and backed out the door, reversing along the hallway they had come down. When they hit the bottom of the stairs, Clark noticed a shiny red smear 5 steps up. He was surprised that it was wet when he touched it."

"Blood." He indicated to his sister, showing her the tips of his fingers. As they crested the stairs, they looked at the door handle directly in front of them, which was also smeared with the telltale mark. "He just made this a whole lot easier." Fischer said with a smile.

oooooooo

Mike and George entered the interview room where Mitchell Ballinger was speaking quietly with the same attorney that sat in with Walen. Once again, Mike produced the plan book with the threatening note. The lawyer spoke up. "Lt. Stone it's late. Can we just cut through the show and tell? Mr. Ballinger is willing to admit he helped leave the threatening notes with Mr. Walen. If you don't have anything else to tie my client to the murd..."

Mike cut the lawyer off. He wanted to end this more than anyone in the room and figure out what happened to Steve. "Fine by me. I really only have one question." Mike pulled a report from a folder. "Mr. Ballinger, can you tell me how your fingerprints got on the kiln where Mona Holtzbaur's body was found."

Ballinger leaned over and whispered something in his lawyer's ear. The lawyer nodded.

"I have pottery class third period. I'll bet my fingerprints are all over that room. It was my turn to load the kiln this week. You can ask Miss Bader."

"So you admit that you know how to operate it?" Mike was surprised by the student's candor.

"Sure I do, the instructions are hanging right on the wall. Any fool can run it."

At that point there was knock on the door. Mike got up and stepped out briefly. He called George Drew into the hall where he was standing with Bill Tanner. He had heard what he needed to, but wanted the young Inspector's opinion.

"What's your take George, is he telling the truth?"

"Honestly, Mike, I think he is."

"Good, so do I. I'm done. You go back in there and finish up with the drug evidence. Look George, I know you want to get who they are working for, but remember, no deals yet. Until we figure out who else is involved in Mona's death, I want to keep these two on the hook."

Inspector Drew returned to the interview room, as Mike went back to the bull pen with Bill Tanner.

"What have you got, Bill?" Mike asked as they entered his office.

"There was no sign of Steve at his place. We've put out the APB's. Where do we go from here?"

"I need to check out one thing," Mike said as he opened a folder on his desk. He pulled out a phone number and looked at the time. He didn't like calling people in the middle of the night, but at that moment, he couldn't think of anything else to do.

He dialed the phone and after a few rings was greeted with a sleepy and less then friendly "What?"

ooooooo

Deciding he needed to put some real estate between him and his captors, Steve hurried along the darkened corridor as quickly as his battered ankle would allow. He turned the corner just as light flooded the hall. "Damn, how did they find me so fast," he thought as he continued up the hall, breathing heavily.

"Mr. Keller," he heard a woman's voice raised and startled at the sound of his name. I don't know where you think you are going, but there is only one way out and it's through us."

Without competing sounds or closed doors, Steve easily identified the speaker. He swore as he heard the unmistakable sound of a round being chambered in a pump action shotgun echo down the hall.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Almost at the end. Thanks for keeping Mike and Steve company on this little adventure, I hope it has been an E-Ticket ride for all of you. Your reviews have helped make it all the more enjoyable for me.**

Mike waited a beat until the young woman was a little more awake. "Miss Bader, this is Lieutenant Stone."

It seemed to take her a minute to process Mike's words. "What can I do for you Lieutenant?" She finally replied.

"Did you see Inspector Keller tonight after the game?"

"Yeah, I did. It was right after you arrested those two knuckleheads. He was headed back to shower. I asked him if he wanted to come out with the faculty for a beer, but he said it was time for him to go do his real job."

"What time was that?"

"I don't know, maybe 8:30. Why?" She asked, suddenly wide awake.

"No reason to be alarmed." Mike reassured the young woman with words he didn't believe himself. "Tell me something, did he say anything to you about finding the pictures that Mona mentioned in her letter?"

"No, Lieutenant. To tell you the truth, he kind of avoided me most of the day. Up until about 3:30 or so, we hadn't spoken but a few words today, and at that point he seemed to be in a hurry to get out of the building. I spoke to him during the game, but not about Mona or the pictures."

This revelation gave Mike pause. He had no Idea what Steve had found and why he had avoided Diane, but he decided he had probably said enough to the young woman. "Thank you, Miss Bader."

Mike hung up the phone. So, the last time he was seen was just after the arrest and the last place was at Mission High. That meant it was the first place Mike needed to look. Before he rushed to gather the troops, Mike dug back in the file and came up with another phone number. He guessed it was his night to wake people up.

oooooo

In a panic, Steve looked around the hall for someplace to hide. _A dead end, how appropriate _he thought. Picking a door at random, he quickly opened it with the pass key and locked it behind himself as soundlessly as he could. It wouldn't buy him much time, but at least he could get out of the line of fire and give himself a minute to consider his next step. Bri Molen knew he had a pass key, she had given it to him herself; Bri Molen, the trusted school secretary.

He walked deeper into the semi-darkened room, which appeared to be a storage area for text book. There were row upon row of floor to ceiling shelves of dusty tomes, perpendicular to the door, plus assorted book carts and crates littering the room. Steve got as far away from the door as physically possible and crouched down in a dark corner. He was hidden for the moment. He slowed his breathing and wracked his brain, not knowing how they found him so fast. He thought about the hall he has just vacated. It had numerous doors and although he knew the janitor had the keys, he prayed that it would take the pair at least a little while to search all the possible hiding places. Even though he was loath to use it most of the time, at this moment, he sorely missed the presence of his .38 special.

As his eyes fully adjusted to the minimal light, he surveyed his surroundings. There were full-height deep cabinets lining the wall, left of the door, and reaching to the back of the room. _A hiding place, perhaps?_ He walked over and checked each door. They were all locked. When he reached the last cabinet, he was annoyed to find that blood once again dampened his fingertips. As he wiped his hands on his jacket it stuck him, _Good God, how stupid can I be, I left a trail of breadcrumbs for them to follow._ He shook his head in disgust. All at once, it occurred to him that he might be able to use it to his advantage.

He squeezed his fingertips to draw more blood to the surface and wiped it on a cabinet lock halfway down the room. He used his handkerchief to clean the other locks, leaving a clear clue. Staying low to the floor, Steve dripped more blood in a path around the book cases and toward the door. His breath caught in his chest as he heard someone rattle the door handle. He took his handkerchief wrapped it around his split fingertips and quickly retreated to the far right side of the room, hiding behind several crates of books. Steve was jittery. A combination of exhaustion and adrenaline fought for control of his brain and body.

He stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket and hoped he could make a run for it, using the book cases as cover, when his adversaries tried to open the cabinet door marked with blood, That, of course, depended on his little ruse being successful. If it didn't work, he would more than likely be returned to where he was originally, awaiting his fate in a locked room. At the very least, maybe his Houdini act in the closet had given Mike time to realize something was wrong.

Fischer had the keys. Steve prayed he would put down the gun or hand it off to Molen when he tried to open the cupboard. But maybe she had the gun? Who knew at this point? His head pounded as he contemplated the various scenarios. If the fake trail worked, his best chance would be to wait until Fischer put the key in the cabinet lock, allowing Steve to make a break for the door. Preparing himself for the sprint of his life, he knew he had to get out the door and around the corner before Fischer or Molen could get off a shot. It was risky and he wasn't sure if his jury-rigged ankle splint would hold out, but it was all he had. He heard the door open and blinked as the room lights clicked on.

oooooo

Fischer rounded the corner with his sister a few steps behind. He was surprised when he didn't see Keller in the dead-end hallway. He strode forward and began to test the door handles one by one. "Where the hell did he go?" He said aloud.

Molen caught up, "He has a pass key, Clark. I gave it to him." She said as he continued to check the door handles. They came to a door mid-way up the hall and found a wet smudge of blood. Clark put the key in the lock, opened the door and flipped on the light.

"Come on Keller, I know you're in here. I really never liked hide and seek." Clark said as he pointed out the blood trail on the floor to his sister. They followed the droplets until they found the blood smeared lock. Fischer handed the shotgun to Bri, who pointed it toward the cabinet. He pulled his key ring off his belt and slipped the key in the lock on the cabinet door. Steve concentrated on his path to the door, only about 12 feet away. It was now or never.

ooooooooo

Mike impatiently waited for someone to pick up the phone. After 5 rings he was about to hang up, notifications be damned. His discomfort over the current situation was growing by the minute. It was time to move. Finally, a disoriented Kirby Pence answered the phone.

"Pence this is Stone, I need to get into the school." Mike didn't have the time or the patience to let the principal wake completely.

Pence tried to respond to Mike, but was having trouble stringing words together, "Now? Whoa, wait Mike what's up?"

"Kirby, there's no time. I need to get into the school now. I know you're in Marin County, if there's no one I can get the key from on this side of the bridge, well, we're going in anyhow."

"Can you just hold on a minute; I'm not even awake. Please Mike, explain what's happening?"

"Listen, I have reason to believe that Ballinger and Walen are not responsible for Mona Holtzbaur's death. I think Keller figured out who it is, but he hasn't been seen for over 4 hours. His car is missing and the last time anybody saw him was at the school. Kirby I need to get over there with some men and see if we can figure out what happened to him." Running through the tale had cemented the urgency building in Mike's mind. By the time he got to the end, he was positive that Steve was in trouble. "Kirby, we need to find him NOW!" Mike reiterated, with growing agitation and volume.

Kirby Pence was finally alert at this point. "Listen, Mike, I'm begging you, please don't do anything till I can get over there with a key. God, all we need is for the kids to come in tomorrow at 8 see the main door broken in."

Bill came barreling into Mike's office, frantically waving a message. Mike put his hand over the receiver and raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

"What do you got, Bill."

"Mike, you're not going to believe where they found Steve's car.

"Mike was in no mood for guessing games. "Give, Bill."

Mike was momentarily distracted hearing his name loudly spoken on the phone. "Mike, MIKE," Kirby called into the phone. "What happening?"

"Hang on a minute, Kirby."

"It's at the Harrison Street impound lot. Someone called it in after midnight and had it towed as illegally parked from the school lot."

"Who, Bill, who called it in?"

"I don't know Mike, they couldn't make it out the name on the paper."

"Mike returned his attention to the phone, "Kirby who is authorized to have cars towed from the school lot?"

"It could be anybody. Even the neighbors sometimes call it in. It keeps kids from hanging around the school at night."

Mike's head was swimming. It was already past 2 am. It had been a long day, and it still wasn't over yet, especially, Mike thought ruefully, for Steve.

"Kirby how long will it take you to meet me at the school with the key?"

"At this time of night, Mike no more than 35 minutes or so."

_That wasn't good enough_, Mike thought. "There is nobody on this side of the bridge with a key?" he said, exasperations cloaking his voice.

Kirby thought about the situation, pausing briefly on the other end of the line. He truly liked Mike's young partner, and wished him no harm, but he had his school to think about. Add to that Mike didn't even know if he was there. Ultimately, he came to a decision and spoke, "Well, Bri Molen lives a few block away and I think Clark Fischer is in the city, too. Those two would be your best bet. I'll give you their numbers and then head over myself. If you can't get them and I'm not there in 35 minutes Mike, do what you need to do."

Mike hung up the phone and spoke to Bill. "Bill, tell Dan to check out Steve's car at the impound lot. Make sure he grabs anything that's in there. Then have him meet us at Mission High as soon as he can. You're with me. I've got two calls to make and we'll head over with a black and white as backup. He glanced at the clock. With or without a key, I want to be in that building no later than 3 am.

ooooooooo

Steve took a deep breath and broke from his hiding place. Using the bookshelves as cover, he made for the door. The critical part of his escape was the last 5 feet where his cover evaporated and there was nothing to shield him from the business end of a shotgun. He ran and didn't look back. He vaguely heard startled voices as he bolted through the door, slamming it shut as he went. His body, flush with a fresh wave of adrenaline, responded to the call as he sped down the hall.

He heard the door bang open as he achieved the corner, grabbing on to the wall to steady himself as he turned and broke for the stairwell door. Steve didn't care at this point that he was leaving a blood trail with his fingertips. Fischer knew damn well where he was headed. No more subterfuge was required, now it was a footrace to the exit.

Steve pulled open the door and charged up the steps, ignoring the pain in his ankle. He achieved the landing on the main floor as the shotgun roared to life, its deafening blast echoing in the closed shaft of the stairwell. His face and side were peppered with splinters of wood as the pellets penetrated the door. He pushed through the remains of the door and ran blindly down the security-lit hall in an attempt to put some distance between him and Fischer.

He had no idea where he was in the building but he knew he had to get to the main door. Fisher had off-handedly told him that all the exits, save the main door, were chained after hours. He turned right at his first opportunity, passed several more halls and turned again. He pulled up panting heavily, suddenly having the overwhelming feeling of a rat running a maze, but usually the rats weren't running for their lives.

Steve looked around and listened. He didn't hear Fischer and Molen, just the oppressive silence that occupied the school when the students left for the day. _Silence is good_, he thought to himself as he attempted to orient himself and get his breathing under control. He noticed a stinging sensation on the left side of his face and was surprised to find fresh blood and splinters in a pattern stretching from his chin to just below his eye.

He really wanted to find a good place to hide, but with an armed Fischer in pursuit, that wasn't an option. Steve looked at his watch, it was after 2:30 am. In just a little more than three hours, people would be entering the building. _This has to be over by then_. He looked around and recognized a landmark, the library, not good news. It meant that he was pretty much as far from the front door as physically possible. _Mike, where are you? _He thought as he started out for the front of the school.


End file.
